Dear Zayde,
This week, as you know already, I learned how to climb stairs. On Tuesday when I visited you and Bubbe, I wasn't quite ready to climb; I touched the stairs, and I contemplated the stairs, and I yelled at the stairs so that they would tell me their secrets, but it wasn't until our visit on Thursday that I knew it was high time get a few feet off the ground. You all looked pleasantly surprised when I figured out how to get my foot onto the first step, which allowed me to pull with my hands and push with my feet until I was all the way up. Once I'd conquered the first step, it was a only a short time until I'd made it to the top of the landing. I'm happy on that landing, where I can see out the window and wave at the people coming and going, but you know first hand how much I want to go up the next set of stairs, the ones that lead to your office. I am certain that glorious things occur up there, and I am incredulous that no one will let me go up there. What good are stairs if I'm not allowed to exercise my newfound ability to climb to the top? I'd like to start an open dialogue and negotiate the terms by which I might be permitted to climb anywhere, anytime. I believe that under the right circumstances, we can find a happy compromise. If Iran and the West can find middle ground with a nuclear program agreement, surely you and I can find a way to end these climbing sanctions.
This week I learned that Mommy really hates the Miami Airport. A lot. She particularly hates it at 10:00 p.m. on a Friday night, when she is tired after a week without Daddy at home. I joined her in her displeasure, and in order to vocalize my empathy, I dutifully wailed while we parked semi-illegally near the baggage claim and waited for Daddy to emerge. When he finally threw his bags in the trunk and sat in the backseat with me, I was able to relax and smile and eventually fall asleep. Of course, when we got home, I had plenty of energy to play with Daddy until after midnight. I wanted to make up for the lost time. I'm sure he appreciated the effort.
This week I learned about birthday candles and birthday presents and the birthday song. I haven't had a birthday party yet, but I predict it will be at least as fun as climbing stairs. On Saturday, Grandma, Savtah, and my Tios brought me presents, which included new sets of Duplos. I'm starting to realize that these blocks are really for Daddy and his brothers, considering how much time they spent sitting on my play mat and building airplanes, trains, and ships. At least they let me act as the official wrecking crew for all their building projects. Later that day, when it was just us three at home, Mommy and Daddy stuck a pink candle in one of my favorite chocolate cookies and sang the same song to me three times, once in English, once in Hebrew, and once in Spanish. I was more impressed with the flickering flame than their harmonizing.
This week I learned how to measure a year. First, you start by counting the days. When you get to seven, you have a week. Then you start to count the weeks. That's what we've been doing with these letters. We've been counting the weeks. Now that we are at 52, we have made a year. The whole world has traveled around the sun in that time. The seasons have changed. We have celebrated every holiday. We are all one year older. This year has been my story; with these letters I have counted all the weeks of my life so far. Thank you for reading my story, Zayde.
One and counting,
Zelda
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Friday, November 15, 2013
Week 51
Dear Zayde,
This week I learned about chocolate. I'd already tasted a chocolate cookie a few times, but this was different. This was a piece of chocolate all by itself. It smeared a little on my hands and on my cheeks, but most of it made it into my mouth, where my taste buds enjoyed an explosion of awesomeness. I learned that I am a huge fan of chocolate, and I hope that Mommy keeps the house stocked with these magical brown bars. She was using the chocolate to make something called a "birthday cake," and although I'm not yet sure what that means, I am going to make a prediction that if it involves chocolate, it will be another spectacular tasting experience.
I also learned about Cheerios this week. They're like puffs, but with just the right amount of crunch. I may only have two bottom teeth (still working on the top two), but that doesn't stop me from enjoying a nice crunch between my surprisingly sharp gums. Mommy says that every kid eats Cheerios, that they're some sort of rite of passage. I guess that means I'm a kid now and no longer a baby. So when do I get to stop wearing diapers?
Speaking of being a big kid, this week I learned that I am capable of sitting at a kid-sized table in a kid-sized chair instead of in a high chair. While visiting Mommy's friend, Lily, and my friends, Eric and Gabe, I sat at a table with Eric. He's my boyfriend. (As is Gabe. And a few others, including Colin and AJ and Jordy.) Eric is an older man; he attends preschool and sleeps in a big boy bed and uses the potty all by himself. I'm kind of in awe of him, especially when he's playing with his Legos and actually builds things instead of just taking them apart. Mommy let me munch on my snack with Eric at the kids' table. I was very careful not to fall out of my seat, and I only dropped about one fifth of my food on the floor. Later, Gabe and I crawled around the house chasing Eric. I played and learned so much that when it was time to drive home, I was asleep before we reached the end of their street.
It's great to have you and Bubbe back in town. It's even greater that Bubbe let me play with her "tablet," which I learned is like a phone but with a much bigger screen. It was awfully kind of her to let me play a game on the tablet that involved so much touching. As you know, I really do love touching. It's my second favorite activity, right after tasting. (Previous to this week, touching was my favorite, but then I tried the aforementioned chocolate.)
See you soon,
Zelda
This week I learned about chocolate. I'd already tasted a chocolate cookie a few times, but this was different. This was a piece of chocolate all by itself. It smeared a little on my hands and on my cheeks, but most of it made it into my mouth, where my taste buds enjoyed an explosion of awesomeness. I learned that I am a huge fan of chocolate, and I hope that Mommy keeps the house stocked with these magical brown bars. She was using the chocolate to make something called a "birthday cake," and although I'm not yet sure what that means, I am going to make a prediction that if it involves chocolate, it will be another spectacular tasting experience.
I also learned about Cheerios this week. They're like puffs, but with just the right amount of crunch. I may only have two bottom teeth (still working on the top two), but that doesn't stop me from enjoying a nice crunch between my surprisingly sharp gums. Mommy says that every kid eats Cheerios, that they're some sort of rite of passage. I guess that means I'm a kid now and no longer a baby. So when do I get to stop wearing diapers?
Speaking of being a big kid, this week I learned that I am capable of sitting at a kid-sized table in a kid-sized chair instead of in a high chair. While visiting Mommy's friend, Lily, and my friends, Eric and Gabe, I sat at a table with Eric. He's my boyfriend. (As is Gabe. And a few others, including Colin and AJ and Jordy.) Eric is an older man; he attends preschool and sleeps in a big boy bed and uses the potty all by himself. I'm kind of in awe of him, especially when he's playing with his Legos and actually builds things instead of just taking them apart. Mommy let me munch on my snack with Eric at the kids' table. I was very careful not to fall out of my seat, and I only dropped about one fifth of my food on the floor. Later, Gabe and I crawled around the house chasing Eric. I played and learned so much that when it was time to drive home, I was asleep before we reached the end of their street.
It's great to have you and Bubbe back in town. It's even greater that Bubbe let me play with her "tablet," which I learned is like a phone but with a much bigger screen. It was awfully kind of her to let me play a game on the tablet that involved so much touching. As you know, I really do love touching. It's my second favorite activity, right after tasting. (Previous to this week, touching was my favorite, but then I tried the aforementioned chocolate.)
See you soon,
Zelda
Sunday, November 10, 2013
Week 50
Dear Zayde,
This week I learned that hair can be cut. I also learned that the reason the world looked like I was viewing it from behind a bunch of yellow strings is because my Mommy was in denial about the fact that hair can be cut. Like trying to put a band-aid on a bursting water pipe, she attempted to keep my bangs out of my face with headbands and barrettes. That's how I learned that headbands are annoying on the head but delicious in the mouth. I also learned how to remove a barrette by carefully sliding it down my scalp until it is safe in my hand and then immediately in my mouth. After a few weeks of this routine, Mommy gave up and took me to see Anna.
Mommy has known Anna for a long time. She taught Anna's son when he was in elementary school, and Anna has been cutting Mommy's hair since then. When my parents got married, Anna made Mommy extra pretty for the big event. I overheard them reminiscing about all this while I sat on Mommy's lap and she sat in a super fun swivel chair. Please correct me if I am mistaken, but the fact that my parents had to become married at some point means that there was a time when they weren't married? A time before me? A time when they didn't even know each other? I can't see how this is possible; perhaps I misunderstood the conversation.
Grandma took pictures as Anna brought her scissors awfully close to my face. They all seemed really excited about what was happening, and I didn't understand the hoopla until Anna was finished, and I realized that I was no longer looking at the world through my bangs. In that moment, everything got a whole lot less annoying. No more head shaking! No more grown-ups brushing my hair across my forehead! No more headbands! I did get a free barrette, adorned with a pink flower, to commemorate the occasion. I let them put it in my hair for a few pictures, but then it was time to be accessory-free. I feel lighter already.
Yesterday, I learned that I have cousins who live in Costa Rica and Colombia. One of them is a little boy as blond as I am. He liked my pink monkey, and everyone was shocked that I let him play with it without a fuss. What they failed to realize is that I used the opportunity to grab his toy cowboy off the table for a quick taste. That's when I learned that "boy" toys are just as yummy as "girl" toys. Savtah let me sit on her lap while I fed myself grapes. There was a lot of other good looking food there, but it was apparently "not for Zelda," a phrase that I increasingly find confusing and bothersome. Across the table, one of my cousins, who is about three years old, let his nanny feed him lunch. She held his fork, and he sat there with his mouth open, like a baby bird. That's when I learned that some kids don't like being in charge of their own meals. As you know, I am not one of those kids.
Speaking of feeding myself, I am learning how to get a spoonful of peanut butter into my mouth without first smearing it elsewhere. Sometimes it's a smooth ride right onto my waiting tongue, but other times the spoon has a mind of its own and ends up in some strange places, like on my hands and cheeks, or in my hair. This week I learned that forks are useful, too. Mommy put a piece of turkey on the end of a fork and let me guide it into my mouth. It was quite a revelation that this process works almost as well as using my hands, but I must admit that I don't see the advantage of this method. If my fingers can do the job, why complicate things with an intermediary tool? When it comes to eating, efficiency is my motto. (Despite what all the food on the ground might imply.) I've been watching adults use silverware at every meal, but I haven't yet figured out the allure. I'm always eager to try new things, however, so I will play this game if Mommy wants me to. Her dinner conversation is getting repetitive, so learning to pick up food with something other than my hands will offer a pleasant distraction from her boring banter about the day's events. Now if only she'd let me use one of those knives, things could get really interesting...
Your little cut-up,
Zelda
This week I learned that hair can be cut. I also learned that the reason the world looked like I was viewing it from behind a bunch of yellow strings is because my Mommy was in denial about the fact that hair can be cut. Like trying to put a band-aid on a bursting water pipe, she attempted to keep my bangs out of my face with headbands and barrettes. That's how I learned that headbands are annoying on the head but delicious in the mouth. I also learned how to remove a barrette by carefully sliding it down my scalp until it is safe in my hand and then immediately in my mouth. After a few weeks of this routine, Mommy gave up and took me to see Anna.
Mommy has known Anna for a long time. She taught Anna's son when he was in elementary school, and Anna has been cutting Mommy's hair since then. When my parents got married, Anna made Mommy extra pretty for the big event. I overheard them reminiscing about all this while I sat on Mommy's lap and she sat in a super fun swivel chair. Please correct me if I am mistaken, but the fact that my parents had to become married at some point means that there was a time when they weren't married? A time before me? A time when they didn't even know each other? I can't see how this is possible; perhaps I misunderstood the conversation.
Grandma took pictures as Anna brought her scissors awfully close to my face. They all seemed really excited about what was happening, and I didn't understand the hoopla until Anna was finished, and I realized that I was no longer looking at the world through my bangs. In that moment, everything got a whole lot less annoying. No more head shaking! No more grown-ups brushing my hair across my forehead! No more headbands! I did get a free barrette, adorned with a pink flower, to commemorate the occasion. I let them put it in my hair for a few pictures, but then it was time to be accessory-free. I feel lighter already.
Yesterday, I learned that I have cousins who live in Costa Rica and Colombia. One of them is a little boy as blond as I am. He liked my pink monkey, and everyone was shocked that I let him play with it without a fuss. What they failed to realize is that I used the opportunity to grab his toy cowboy off the table for a quick taste. That's when I learned that "boy" toys are just as yummy as "girl" toys. Savtah let me sit on her lap while I fed myself grapes. There was a lot of other good looking food there, but it was apparently "not for Zelda," a phrase that I increasingly find confusing and bothersome. Across the table, one of my cousins, who is about three years old, let his nanny feed him lunch. She held his fork, and he sat there with his mouth open, like a baby bird. That's when I learned that some kids don't like being in charge of their own meals. As you know, I am not one of those kids.
Speaking of feeding myself, I am learning how to get a spoonful of peanut butter into my mouth without first smearing it elsewhere. Sometimes it's a smooth ride right onto my waiting tongue, but other times the spoon has a mind of its own and ends up in some strange places, like on my hands and cheeks, or in my hair. This week I learned that forks are useful, too. Mommy put a piece of turkey on the end of a fork and let me guide it into my mouth. It was quite a revelation that this process works almost as well as using my hands, but I must admit that I don't see the advantage of this method. If my fingers can do the job, why complicate things with an intermediary tool? When it comes to eating, efficiency is my motto. (Despite what all the food on the ground might imply.) I've been watching adults use silverware at every meal, but I haven't yet figured out the allure. I'm always eager to try new things, however, so I will play this game if Mommy wants me to. Her dinner conversation is getting repetitive, so learning to pick up food with something other than my hands will offer a pleasant distraction from her boring banter about the day's events. Now if only she'd let me use one of those knives, things could get really interesting...
Your little cut-up,
Zelda
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Week 49
Dear Zayde,
This week I learned that we live near islands. Mommy and her friend Auntie Camille took me on an adventure to visit Auntie Effie, who lives in the Keys. (I don't know where the Locks are, but when I find out, I'll let you know.) The ride was long enough for an excellent nap, and when we arrived, I knew I was somewhere special. There was water to the left, water to the right, and a pleasant breeze from every direction. Effie lives in a pink house, which might seem odd in a place like New Jersey but fits right in among the other homes near the water. We enjoyed a delightful brunch on the dockside patio of a local eatery, where I nibbled on the contents of a fresh fruit cup. Then we lounged back at the house before posing for the usual commemorative snapshots and finally heading home. I vowed to stay alert during the return trip to scope out the scenery, but there's something about the rhythmic swaying of the car and the soft contours of my seat that made another nap inevitable.
Later this week, I learned that on one special night each year, people dress in scary and/or funny costumes to roam the streets in search of candy. Mommy dressed me up as Princess Zelda, which I think defeats the purpose of the holiday. Why dress as myself? Regardless, I suppose it was an excellent excuse to wear a pink onesie and tights along with a gold tutu and sparkly headband-as-crown, and now that I know what kind of response I get from friends and strangers when I wear such attire, I might need to do so weekly. The evening's event was called "Halloween" but has nothing to do with an empty end to breastfeeding. Mommy had a big bowl full of candy that she gave to the children who knocked on our door, but she never offered any to me. I guess we can add candy to the list of things I now understand are "not for babies."
Speaking of being a baby, the good news is that I won't be one for much longer. Now that I'm so close to walking, I'm told that I'm soon to earn a new title: toddler. In an effort to speed up the process, I'm taking laps around the coffee table every day and have mastered the art of standing upright for a few seconds before returning to a crawling stance. I hope to be toddling by the end of the month and running amok by the new year.
Tutu cute,
Zelda
This week I learned that we live near islands. Mommy and her friend Auntie Camille took me on an adventure to visit Auntie Effie, who lives in the Keys. (I don't know where the Locks are, but when I find out, I'll let you know.) The ride was long enough for an excellent nap, and when we arrived, I knew I was somewhere special. There was water to the left, water to the right, and a pleasant breeze from every direction. Effie lives in a pink house, which might seem odd in a place like New Jersey but fits right in among the other homes near the water. We enjoyed a delightful brunch on the dockside patio of a local eatery, where I nibbled on the contents of a fresh fruit cup. Then we lounged back at the house before posing for the usual commemorative snapshots and finally heading home. I vowed to stay alert during the return trip to scope out the scenery, but there's something about the rhythmic swaying of the car and the soft contours of my seat that made another nap inevitable.
Later this week, I learned that on one special night each year, people dress in scary and/or funny costumes to roam the streets in search of candy. Mommy dressed me up as Princess Zelda, which I think defeats the purpose of the holiday. Why dress as myself? Regardless, I suppose it was an excellent excuse to wear a pink onesie and tights along with a gold tutu and sparkly headband-as-crown, and now that I know what kind of response I get from friends and strangers when I wear such attire, I might need to do so weekly. The evening's event was called "Halloween" but has nothing to do with an empty end to breastfeeding. Mommy had a big bowl full of candy that she gave to the children who knocked on our door, but she never offered any to me. I guess we can add candy to the list of things I now understand are "not for babies."
Speaking of being a baby, the good news is that I won't be one for much longer. Now that I'm so close to walking, I'm told that I'm soon to earn a new title: toddler. In an effort to speed up the process, I'm taking laps around the coffee table every day and have mastered the art of standing upright for a few seconds before returning to a crawling stance. I hope to be toddling by the end of the month and running amok by the new year.
Tutu cute,
Zelda
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