Being Breanne: Keeping Up With Zo

Keeping up with Zoey is proving to be increasingly difficult. I mean, I do have to blink once in a while. There aren't really any more "firsts," aside from the big stuff like first haircut, first lost tooth, first boyfriend (hey, mine was when I was 6-years old. Hi, Travis Moon! Then I met Jacob only a year later); she is just evolving and elaborating.

I have no idea what Zoey is supposed to know or be able to do by this age (14 months), we just make sure to teach her things we want her to know, and praise her with love and kisses and cuddles when she says/does something correct, or that we asked of her. For the most part, I can tell what she is capable of, and a lot of the time she surprises me.

Physically, she's wonderful. She is no longer in the 95th percentile (sorry, Dad), but the doctor said that is normal, children tend to lose weight as they get more active, and reach height-plateaus as they grow.

And now a bazillion pictures of Zoey playing with her hamper. She'll make a toy out of anything:

Everyone needs a drink once in awhile. She knows milk and water, and will ask for them, but milk is "moo moo," and water is, "wah-er." And, interestingly enough, she will only drink her water if her milk is in the other hand. (She loves her Dora cups too. She loves to point and say, "Door (Dora)." And when I put on her Dora socks she loves to sing the beginning of the theme song: "D-d-d-d door (Dora)!")

Two Dora cups. No waiting.

Aside from her vocabulary, we know she understands a great deal. I suppose it's from watching me do it countless times a day, but she will now pick up her used [folded up and secured] diaper and put it in the trash herself. One day, she just did it and I was shocked. Then she said, "garbage." Now, one of her favorite things to do is pick up little pieces of trash (or dirt the dogs brought it), put it in the trash and announce, "trash!" She also mimics spitting in the trash can (which I had to do every second of my pregnancy).

Zoey will also return something to where it belongs. One day, she wanted to pull each of my shoes out of my closet one by one and announce, "shoe!" or "boot!" Once that was completed, I then said, "Ok, put them back, please." And she started putting them back in my closet one by one.

She was fascinated with the dog toys for the longest time, but she gradually accepted that she wasn't allowed to play with them and that they were for the dogs. She would pick one up and I'd say, "No, those are dog toys. Put them back, please," and she would. Now - last night - Louis left a toy in the middle of the floor and Zoey picked it up and put it back in his toy basket.

Speaking of Louis, funny story. No, he didn't kill anything else. The other night Jacob was watching a documentary on Yellowstone National Park, with most of the focus being on the animals, primarily wolves. So, of course, we got to see the entire hunt of a giant buck elk by a couple of wolves. It didn't look like the wolves had a chance, for some reason they won't go in the water but the elk will. Louis noticed and walked up as close as he could get to the screen, cocking his head left and right, and licking his lips, if you can believe it. He watched the entire thing, lips being licked, tail wagging, twitching, and that was the night he played with the aforementioned dog toy.

We're having a little bit of trouble trying to get her to not throw her dishes when she's done eating. She's getting better when she's actually finished eating, saying, "no more," or "all gone." When she wants more, she'll say, "more?" But for some reason she just has to throw her Cheerios and eat them off the floor. She doesn't eat her other meals off the floor, not even with other snacks. Just Cheerios. She loves to say Cheerios too. And, no, it doesn't just sort of sound like "Cheerios," it is clearly discernible "Cheerios."

She knows "cookie," too and refers to the animal crackers as cookies. She'll point and say, "cookie?" If she really wants one - or anything else - she will say, "please," either of her own volition or if you prompt her. When she doesn't say "please," we don't give it to her, and if she really doesn't want it, she out-right refuses to say, "please;" but then she forgets about it seconds later. Speaking of cookie, I made another cookie man, this time oatmeal raisin.

Cookie Man has a bit of a skin condition. But he does look tasty. I had extra dough so made one giant cookie in addition to Man. I fell asleep on the couch, the giant cookie was gone and Cookie Man's arm was missing.

Messing around on the couch with Mommy and Daddy. Daddy is that thing that says Goodwrech Service on it.