The Story of Noah

Speaking of, I broke out the children's illustrated bible the other night and read Z the story of Noah. Tonight she asked me "There's no God on Capitol Hill, right Papa?"

She wanted me to tell her a story about the ark, so I retold it where I was Noah, and I made the ark big enough to take everybody. And J found land after the flood. Then we all got off the boat and danced around. "And then we killed God", Z added excitedly.

Ummm.

I guess the whole Noah thing wasn't the best intro to YAWH.

So by the end of Halloween, after the trick-and-treating was done, Z and I went across the street to return a bottle of wine Rachel had left while babysitting (while I took S to the ER). [Whew!] Having dropped off the plonk, we turned to come home, but a big group of kids were coming up the stairs. "Hey Z! Do you want to give out candy?" "Yes!"

So we stayed up entirely too late giving out candy--with "Picture Day" tomorrow, no less. It was great, though. We sat and chatted, R carved a few pumpkins, and Z gave out candy to group after group of kids, big and small. Finally around 8, the stream of kids died out and we had a few moments to sit and chat.

Down the darkened street, an old woman, dressed in a white taffeta dress, with a tiara made of snowflakes came walking hobbling up the stairs, leaning on a cane. "Trick or treat!" she called. Z dug into her bucket of candy, and dropped three pieces into the old witch's purse.

"Now that you've given me a treat, I have something for you!"

She dug into her bag and pulled out an orb filled with a murky liquid and something that sparked when the light hit it.

"It's a ball! And when it bounces, it lights up!"

Z bounced it and it lit up.

"And it's also got..."

"It's got an eyeball that lights up!" yelled Z.

"Happy Halloween" called the witch, and hobbled off to the next house on the street, with no kids in sight.

I love this neighborhood.

I Have Nothing More to Teach You...

Reading with Zola last night: there was a picture of a dog at the park, and walking through a field of some flowers. "Ah, look at the yarrow!" I said. "No, Papa! That's Queen Anne's Lace!"

Amtrak experiences

Zola went to NYC to visit her cousins with her Baba. Zola was really excited about the trip, not least because she finally had the chance to travel on Amtrak. (In the mornings when she occasionally joins us in bed, you can hear the train whistle. Zola will often ask if it's the "Philadelphia train" that Mama takes to work, as I used to travel up there frequently when I worked for BBBSA.)

A few of the highlights:

• "Baba, they dont' serve anything but junk food on these trains." That wasn't a complaint ... Zee loves junk food. It was another reason to love the train.
• "Baba, I think we must be in New Jersey now. I just saw a clue." This said while driving past a rough part of one of the stations in Baltimore that had a lot of graffiti. Not sure where she learned that NJ has lots of graffiti, but apparently the guy across the aisle from Zee and Baba thought that was hilarious.
• Upon returning, "Mama, did you know they have a quiet car on the train? Well, I didn't like it. They need to have a loud car." Upon finding out that I like to ride in the quiet car while on business travel, "Why Mama?"

Unicorn rock star

Zola received a new unicorn stuffed animal. As we were getting out of the car she said, "I need to brush her mane and her tail so that she doesn't look like a rock star."

Baba's citizenship

Zola's had lots of fun over the years with the fact that her Baba is an alien, but not the scary kind from outer space.

After many years in the states (over 45), Baba told Zola that she has finally decided to apply for American citizenship. Zola replied, "Well, then you have to stop saying 'toe-mah-toe'."

Very Memorable

Zola had her first art class with her new teacher, Ms Bomba. We met her briefly during Beautification Day. When she got home, a I asked her how Art went, and if she liked Ms Bomba.

"Yes, but you know, she didn't recognize me."

"Well, she only met you once."

"But I'm very memorable!"



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Zola's take on the homeless

After her preschool class talked about the homeless and joined a march, Zola was quite concerned about their plight. As noted earlier, she wanted to be a grave robber to help the homeless.

When a building by Eastern Market was abandoned after the historic building was refurbished, Zola told us that they should use it to house the homeless.

Another day, she wondered if they might be able to live in trees.

Still later, we saw a person with a sign asking for help as he was homeless. Zola asked what his sign said and I told her. She looked sympathetic and then alarmed. "Mama, I don't want him to live with us."

I assured her that that wasn't what he was asking for, just money to help find shelter/food etc. She seemed relieved.

Zola's career aspirations

Her fave book for quite a while was "Mummies -- An Ickstory". Basically a book meant to gross out 8-year-old boys. The book is super-explicit and Zee just couldn't get enough of it.

So one day she said, "Papa, I want to be a grave robber" (pronounced wobbler -- see earlier post).

This was later amended to be "I want to be a grave robber that helps the homeless."

Coolest take on the Robin Hood legend I've ever encountered.

Miss Joyce

Zola had a wonderful teacher at her summer camp named Miss Joyce. On the last day of her camp, she declared, "You know? Miss Joyce is just so lovable."

She keeps talking about inviting her to different events ... like her next concert or her wedding. Or maybe she will get to go for a drive with Zola when Zola buys the car of her dreams -- a pink convertible with peace signs and easter eggs painted on it.

On the wedding front, that was one of the only times she was upset with Miss Joyce all summer. I went to pick her up and she said, "Mama, Miss Joyce said I can't marry Brendan."

Me: Why did she say that?

Zee: [silence, then ...] Well, she said that if I want to marry Brendan I have to be a little nicer to him. [apparently Zola had a physical altercation with him earlier that day]

Pronunciations that slay me

Robbers are wobblers. And almost all bad things may be attributed to the wrongdoings of said wobblers.

Confusing is confooozing.

Lid meant look. That one threw the only babysitter Zola ever had for a loop. Babysitter was a certified children's speech therapist and couldn't figure out that Zola was asking her to look at something when Zola would point and say, "Lid! Lid!"

Head Wound

I'm always surprised by how tough Ms Z can be. She's been staying in Rockville with Baba and Dee for the week with her cousin T. I get a call from Baba who sounded a bit frayed. "Zola got a cut on her head, and we think she might need a doctor to look at it."

Sigh. How many times have you heard that from overprotective grandparents? But Baba's got a pretty good track record, so, fine, we'll meet you at the walk-in care place.

They were stampeding around the house, and Z managed to trip in just the right way, falling perfectly right into an exposed bolt on the end of her bed. So she opened up a deep, crescent-shaped, 3/4" gouge on her head, just above her hairline.

When we showed up, she was draped in surgical gauze, the nurse cleaning her up, and she quite subdued. There had been whispers of "stitches" earlier, and whatever those were, she didn't want anything to do with them.

Eventually the doctor came in to look at the gash. "I don't want stitches" Z said.

"Oh, we'll use staples!" assured the doctor.

So with the nurse holding her on one side, and mr on the other, and her cousin T looking on with her mouth hanging open, the doctor proceeded to staple Z's head shut. She took 5 staples before she showed any reaction at all--she kind of winced a bit.

It must've affected me more than her, because when it was all over, I picked her up and held her. My arm was kind of shaking. "Stop shivering, Papa," she chided.

Two Men of the World

Jacques and I are spending the week alone, since S and Z are visiting the grandparents in Colorado. House seems very quiet and empty. Making me think that college isn't that far off. Okay, a little over the 13 years, but I never thought the first 4.75 years would go so quickly. Must increase blog output!

So we went to the doctor the day before yesterday, and there was a picture up on the wall from one of Zola's books (The Body Book). Was a little girl with her nervous system exposed, smelling a flower, etc...

"Hey! That's from my Body Book!"
"Oh, yeah! Neat!" I said.

Anyway, so I kind of forgot about it until this morning, when she brought the book down to breakfast. I'm sitting there, and I say, "Let's see if we can find the picture from the doctor's office, okay?" I start flipping through the book, and she's eating her oatmeal. I'm having trouble finding it, so I go to the Table of Contents to look it up.

"Does it say five-five on it?"
"Um...what?"
"I think it says five-five on it."

So I finally find it in the TOC:

"The Nervous System...............................................Page 55"

[Cue eerie music...]

Fourth Year Checkup (4.25 months)

So went to Z's 4 year old "well-child" visit today. The first person to see her was a 3rd year medical student. Great bedside manner. He did a bunch of diagnostics. Z was pretty tight-lipped, but eventually started chatting with him.

Then he ended up telling her that "you don't even need to have any shots this visit" just before heading to fetch the attending pediatrician. So about ten minutes later, he comes back with a grizzled old veteran who may have been the Head of Pediatrics. The older doc comes up to me (in front of Z) and says, "Um.. we made a mistake. She actually needs to get two shots." Z didn't really say anything other than get a bit tight-lipped. Then a couple of moments after the two of them left, where we were waiting for the nurse with the needles, and she made a gallows-humor reference to shots and chuckled.

So Zola got two hypo injections in her upper right thigh--after being told by the first doctor that she wasn't going to get any shots. Bastards.

She took the first one with *zero* reaction whatsoever. Just stone-faced. Second one, the only reaction you could see was that her cheeks got a little flushed, and she sniffed once. Never fails to surprise me what a badass she is.

Feeling Sick

Z, who is now 4 and 3 months, has come down with some sort of stomach bug. She was vomiting and holding her tummy. She just looked miserable. As she fell back onto the pillow and held her hand to her tummy, she said, "Papa, I don't want to give you my germs."

Made me tear up a bit.

Then she realized that her friends Brendan and Gus were hanging out at Gus' house and eating pizza.

"You know, Papa. ***VOMIT*** I think I feel okay to go to Gus' house. ***RETCH***"

Tough customer.

Dinner At Franklins

Everyone was a bit on edge, and S and Z were cranking away at one another. Definitely in need of dinner ASAP. Z recommended Franklin's, and somehow S & I crossed signals, and ended up in the car driving out to Hyattsville.

Since Z had been super cranky the whole way out (and S&I as well) I made a new rule: "Since we're going to be hanging out with a bunch of people out at a restaurant, and we don't want to be rude, we need to try not to argue or fight with one another. So if anyone starts to get angry, or rude, they need to go out to the car until they calm down."

We made it through a really pleasant evening. With only one semi-meltdown. Z said one thing, then S said, "No that's not what you said." Z was just about to start yelling when she visibly got hold of her emotions. She took a deep breath, and said quietly, "Momma. I think you misunderstood what I was saying."

Spelling Bee

Mama: (to me) "She's being a P-I-L-L."

Z: "I am not a pill!"