"Why not?" I ask.
"Eastern Market...it's right over there...," pointing out the window.
"So?"
She points back at the animals in the book.
"But these aren't real."

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you my 2 1/2 year old.

... So I look at the page of baby farm animals, and improvise a story. "Once upon a time, there was a foal. His best friends were a kid, and a duckling. One day they were all walking to Eastern Market." A look of dawning disgust comes over Ms. Z's face. "they can't go to Eastern Market!"

Penchant for verisimilitude

Reading to Ms. Z, asked her to pick out a book to read. She's going through a "catalog" phase. She likes books that are nothing more than a cataolog of animals--baby animals, or scaly animals...

Watch Out For Spiders

One more related story:

Ms Z was pointing at the cobwebs outside on the windowsill. "I don't like that..."

"What? The spider webs?"

"I don't like those spider webs..."

"Why, what's wrong with spider webs?"

"I hate spiders."

"No, no. They're good! They eat bugs and mosquitos!"

"They KILL people!"

Ladies and gentlemen, my two-and-a-half year-old.

They Can't Do It...

A couple of new ones:

S is in San Francisco for a conference, so Ms Z and I are flying duo until Thursday morning. So I'm trying to fix some sort of intractable bug while Z's playing, but of course she wants me to come play with her. So she's saying, "Help make the sofa a boat. Help make the sofa a boat!"

And I'm trying to defer: "just a few minutes; I've got to finish this email."

"Help me make a boat!"

"Hey, why don't you get Otis and Jacques to help you?"

"No you help me!"

"I can't right now; can you play with Jacques and Otis?"

"THEY CANT DO THAT WITH THEIR PAWS!!!"

Just went into Z's room to turn off the lights, and she's draped herself in the most dramatic way across the bed. she really is the most beautiful child I've ever seen. And this isn't some sort of new father thing either. We're almost three years in and--occasionally--to see her beautiful form is like a punch in the gut.

Second Day of School

Was a little nervous this morning when Ms Z said, "I don't like school!" But I felt a little better when she claimed not to like: Me, underwear, shirts, pants, Otis, the sun, and various other entities. We were laughing about halfway into the list.

Today, we left J-Dogg in the crate, and the two of us walked all the way to school, Zola carrying her lunch bag pretty much the entire way.

When we finally got there, she asked in a kind of distracted way, "Can you come in?" But before I could answer, she was across the room, and playing with some toy or another. I wanted to say, "Goodbye", but also figured that the less ceremony, the better, so I stood and watched for a minute or two, and didn't see her turn around, so I walked back out into the little anteroom to enter the "check in" code.

Some young mom was just finishing up with the security box, we said hello, and as I was punching in, I heard her say to the little girl, "Is that your new friend you were talking about? What's her name? Z___?"

Then I realized I could hear Ms Z crying on the other side of the door. Hopefully it was short-lived. On the plus side...she's somebody's friend!

Whoo-hoo!

First Day of School: The Aftermath

So S & I were antsy about picking up Ms Z--we were watching the clock, trying to make the hands move faster, so that 3:30 pm would come sooner.

Only it turns out that the pick-up time was *not* 3:30pm. It was 2:45-3:00 pm.

So while S, J, & I were still about two blocks from the school, I got a cell-phone call. "Hmm. I wonder who this could be?"

"Mr C, I don't know if we got our wires crossed somehow, but we at the school are very strict about pick-up times for parents. We usually wouldn't call or make a big deal, except that your daughter is upset..."

Oh, Crap! So I'm running to the school, trying to catch my breath as I round the corner. I run down the stairs, and there's the school director, giving me a tolerant look. Then out comes little Ms Z, under control, but still occasionally sobbing. She wouldn't say anything to me for a full five minutes.

Apparently, she was fine until all the other parents showed up, and began taking their children home. So, Ms Z has learned three new phrases:

• I wanted you.
• I was all alone.

Ouch.

First Day At School

Just dropped Ms Z off at the Northeast Stars Summer Camp. Susie and I were both pretty emotional. Well, S was really choked up.

I had powerful mixed feelings: equal parts celebration and apprehension--and I think they canceled each other out. We walked to school w/ Ms Z, and when I say "walked" I mean it. She walked the entire way, toting her little neoprene lunch bag. She was super talkative, saying "I'm going to school! Annie (the train) is running to school! I'm bringing my lunch to school."

When we finally arrived at the big moment, S took her into the (still pretty empty) classroom, Ms Z took off looking at some fish, and never looked back. One of the teachers came up to her and said, "Hello, my name is Ms, ___" and held out her hand to shake.

S said that Ms Z didn't hear her, or was distracted, so she didn't respond. The teacher said, "That's okay. A lot of kids are shy on their first day." S said, "Hey Z! Do you want to shake the teacher's hand?" So Ms Z comes trotting up, bold as brass, thrusts out her mitt, and says, "I'm pretending to be a train today."

Kid's got nerves of steel... :)