I've been through a bunch of entries on both blogs and have come to the conclusion that Zoe needs a little time in the spotlight. I'm sure that as time goes on, my wee gal is not going to have any problem at all making herself heard. Oher than her surgery, it may seem that she is easily overshadowed by her two brothers. We were very concerned for her after Wyatt's diagnosis as we were afraid that exact thing would happen. Allow me to set the record straight; that is hardly the case.
I joke frequently about her screaming, but rest assured that is reality. At first it was mainly due to colic, but now we are well into the second month or so of teething (we have yet to see a single one). I swear I spend a good 1/2 to 2/3 of the day just on her alone. Not all that time is spent being miserable tho'; a good portion of the time she is the funniest baby I have ever met. Hands down.
To start with, she communicates in a series of sneezes. I'm not kidding. It started out with a real sneeze one day and I mimicked her. She sneezed another time and I mimicked her again and she smiled. I sneezed one day and she mimicked me back. Now when she sees either Sean or myself, she snorts and sniffles, all the while grinning and giggling, thinking we are having the best of conversations. It's really hard to explain to people. Is she allergic? No, she's just saying hi...
Two weekends ago we were at friends for a playdate and dinner. Staying true to form, she became fussy in the late afternoon. I've taken to dealing with her screaming any way I can; in order to bring some levity to what was going to become very loud, very fast, I took my finger and tapped it on her mouth as she was whining, making a "wah-wah" sound. She stopped. I did it again. We did this off and on for a good half hour, me laughing like crazy and her thinking it was the best game ever. We went home that night and promtly forgot about it. Two days later, she is sitting on my lap and "talking" (that little burbly throw in a consonant here and there babble that babies do). Suddenly she grabs my hand and puts my finger in her mouth to make a "wah-wah" noise. Then she giggled. She hadn't forgotten about it. She will do this at least once a day, when she's not trying to actually gnaw off one of my fingers. Or eat my face. Apparently she is part cannibal on her father's side.
Her smile is the best, hand down. It is probably not all that great by baby standards, but since most of my day is either spent praying that my hearing finally goes or that she goes the f☠ck to sleep, it is a thing of beauty when it arrives. I have yet to fully capture it's glory, but this is the closest I have come so far:
It starts out crooked and then takes up most of her face as she scrunches her nose and snuffles at you. I hope to immortalize it in all it's gummy glory before those (damn!) elusive teeth come in.
Now, this is the part where I nominate myself for Mother of the Year by admitting that I accidentally call her the wrong name all the time. I'm not talking about the "Sean-Wyatt-Quinn...YOU!!" thing that all mothers do (I am sad to admit that I do it), but rather a totally different name all together. Specifically, I accidentally call her "Fenchurch". Other than Arthur Dent's girlfriend, Fenchurch is my cat. My dead cat. You can read all about that here.
I accidentally started calling her Fenchurch about the two or three month mark. I really don't know how it started, but I'm betting the sleep deprivation had a LOT to do with it. Fenchurch made a lot of weird noises over the years and I think could have contributed. Zoe makes a lot of whining/whimpering/mewling noises that sound like kittens, puppies and occasionally piglets. She is also super intense like Fen was [read: nuts]. These are guesses at best but it took me two weeks of thinking about her as "Fenchurch" before I accidentally called her that one night at the bedtime feed. Sean leveled his gaze for a moment (most likely assessing my level of crazy) and then remarked that "they might just be Sable and Fenchurch, you don't know". I'm pretty sure they are not and the cheese has just slid off my cracker a bit, but he gets uber bonus points for being such a sympathetic husband.
Zoe is exactly like me. Now, I know a lot of Moms say this about their kids and they might be right... and I do believe I said this about Quinn. Believe me now when I say she is exactly like me. Exactly. From the "want" line on her forehead to the mole on her hip, she is a carbon copy, miniature me. That scares me a bit, but other times it's hilarious. Like this morning, when she couldn't seem to get her eyes open...
She needs her coffee too.
By the way, not 3 minutes later...
And the day usually goes from there. She refuses to nap other than in 5 minute bursts. By the way, when that unlikely event does happen, a bomb going off will not wake her up. My eyelids closing? Loudest sound on earth.
So there you have it... up close and personal with who I think is the most personable baby on the planet. Daily she makes me laugh (and cry). She may be the only girl and she may be the "youngest", but we have no delusions about who will eventually be the Alpha in our little brood.
God help us when she learns to crawl.
I joke frequently about her screaming, but rest assured that is reality. At first it was mainly due to colic, but now we are well into the second month or so of teething (we have yet to see a single one). I swear I spend a good 1/2 to 2/3 of the day just on her alone. Not all that time is spent being miserable tho'; a good portion of the time she is the funniest baby I have ever met. Hands down.
 | |||
| I has shooz. (almost 6 mos) |
Two weekends ago we were at friends for a playdate and dinner. Staying true to form, she became fussy in the late afternoon. I've taken to dealing with her screaming any way I can; in order to bring some levity to what was going to become very loud, very fast, I took my finger and tapped it on her mouth as she was whining, making a "wah-wah" sound. She stopped. I did it again. We did this off and on for a good half hour, me laughing like crazy and her thinking it was the best game ever. We went home that night and promtly forgot about it. Two days later, she is sitting on my lap and "talking" (that little burbly throw in a consonant here and there babble that babies do). Suddenly she grabs my hand and puts my finger in her mouth to make a "wah-wah" noise. Then she giggled. She hadn't forgotten about it. She will do this at least once a day, when she's not trying to actually gnaw off one of my fingers. Or eat my face. Apparently she is part cannibal on her father's side.
 |
| Don't let her fool you... |
Her smile is the best, hand down. It is probably not all that great by baby standards, but since most of my day is either spent praying that my hearing finally goes or that she goes the f☠ck to sleep, it is a thing of beauty when it arrives. I have yet to fully capture it's glory, but this is the closest I have come so far:
 |
| Whee! (3 Mos) |
Now, this is the part where I nominate myself for Mother of the Year by admitting that I accidentally call her the wrong name all the time. I'm not talking about the "Sean-Wyatt-Quinn...YOU!!" thing that all mothers do (I am sad to admit that I do it), but rather a totally different name all together. Specifically, I accidentally call her "Fenchurch". Other than Arthur Dent's girlfriend, Fenchurch is my cat. My dead cat. You can read all about that here.
I accidentally started calling her Fenchurch about the two or three month mark. I really don't know how it started, but I'm betting the sleep deprivation had a LOT to do with it. Fenchurch made a lot of weird noises over the years and I think could have contributed. Zoe makes a lot of whining/whimpering/mewling noises that sound like kittens, puppies and occasionally piglets. She is also super intense like Fen was [read: nuts]. These are guesses at best but it took me two weeks of thinking about her as "Fenchurch" before I accidentally called her that one night at the bedtime feed. Sean leveled his gaze for a moment (most likely assessing my level of crazy) and then remarked that "they might just be Sable and Fenchurch, you don't know". I'm pretty sure they are not and the cheese has just slid off my cracker a bit, but he gets uber bonus points for being such a sympathetic husband.
Zoe is exactly like me. Now, I know a lot of Moms say this about their kids and they might be right... and I do believe I said this about Quinn. Believe me now when I say she is exactly like me. Exactly. From the "want" line on her forehead to the mole on her hip, she is a carbon copy, miniature me. That scares me a bit, but other times it's hilarious. Like this morning, when she couldn't seem to get her eyes open...
She needs her coffee too.
By the way, not 3 minutes later...
And the day usually goes from there. She refuses to nap other than in 5 minute bursts. By the way, when that unlikely event does happen, a bomb going off will not wake her up. My eyelids closing? Loudest sound on earth.
So there you have it... up close and personal with who I think is the most personable baby on the planet. Daily she makes me laugh (and cry). She may be the only girl and she may be the "youngest", but we have no delusions about who will eventually be the Alpha in our little brood.
God help us when she learns to crawl.
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