Big Questions

Sunday night.  Many things are happening in this world of ours... It's been nearly one year (almost to the day) of my last entry.  Truthfully, I've been thinking about blogging again for a while, a long while.  I need to get back to my thoughts in a manner that takes some time, a little creativity, and a smidge of accountability.  I have yet to get to any of those...  err, make myself try any of those... until right now. 

Important moment here that might get lost...  in my brain, in this overcomplicated world, in this fast-fast-hurry-up-and-wait instant social media world... 

I put Zoey to bed (late because we got home late from Sun Valley and still gave her a bath)....
We did our nightly bedtime routine, minus Daddy's part since he is out of town....
I sat down at the computer to pay bills...
She asked me to come back...

Sweet Zoey, six years old, is obviously tired and over-thinking (a family trait)...
She asks me, "When will the world end?"
Followed by "When everybody goes to heaven, what happens here?"
....
I guess I told her I wasn't really sure....

Zoey: "Like will it all be dust here?"

oh boy.... 

If John were here I'm pretty sure he'd have a much more refined response.  At least he would say it with confidence.  He's good with heavy things... 

We talked about a few little things (me, not wanting to dismiss her, but truthfully not wanting to make anything too concrete because I just don't know...and that's ok...) BUT I also realize she just needs her mind eased to let herself go to sleep.

We talk of love and beauty.  Friends and family.  What we like to do.  Finding our purpose (like the Cutie Mark Crusaders)... and how this world and heaven are both awesome places.  Nothing too intense...  I lightened up the mood with talking about what we might do tomorrow  (Visit the airport! she said.  I added eat lunch there and watch for planes - they usually land around lunchtime.  She made sure to tell me if she didn't like the food...  we'd just try something else.)

All of this in less than 10 minutes....  But I can't stop thinking about it. 

Her mind is amazing! 

And, personally....selfishly, all of the fears of parenting surface:  Am I doing enough for her?  Spending enough time?  Quality time?  Am I managing my own stress away from her?  Am I too much involved?  Where is the balance?  I know she feels love.  Is that enough?

I just need to take my own advice and...  stop over thinking. 

Big questions. 
Simple enough answer...  go to bed. 


but there are still those pesky bills to pay....  ;)

On school and parties and time.

It's Wednesday.  Mid week.  Hump Day. 

Today was harder than ever to drop Zoey off at school.  Day 4.  I hugged her at the door and didn't go in.  She looked back three times before walking around the corner... away.  Away into a classroom full of other kids.  Normal kids, I'm sure.  Kids and a surely sweet teacher.  Also to the boy who sits right next to her and has been put on "yellow" every single day.  All three days prior of school.  He talks and makes noises all through class.  Zoey told John that he pulled on her braid in line.  He's just a typical kid.  A typical boy - raised by douche bags, I'm sure.  It's not the kid's fault that he is a jerk...  nope, it's the parents fault.  And the "system" too.  What ornery little boy needs to be kept quiet and sit still for SEVEN hours a day, five days a week?!? 

....
As we were walking to school this morning, before we had gotten very far past our driveway, Zoey said she didn't want to go to school.  This is the second morning of that statement....  sure, I expect to hear that from teens, but my sweet little five year old that likes her teacher?!  She likes to play on the playground and liked to see the music teacher play the keyboard. 

But she said to me...  why does it take so long?  Why can't we work and do this and work and do that and then come home?  Not work, work, work, WORK?!

I really didn't know what to say.  She shouldn't have to WORK WORK WORK all day at five years old.  She should have to WORK some and play some and run around a lot!  In a SEVEN hour day, she gets two 15 minute recesses and one 30 minute lunch.  One hour to not have to be "on" in school.  And even in that time, a kid still has to think about where things are, how things work, who everybody is around her....  whether or not she's going to get in trouble for some other kid's actions!  This is ridiculous!!

AND to top it all off....  I see on instagram.  (Yes, I finally went back online to look at pictures.) I see pictures of her little friends from preschool having a grand ole time at a birthday party LAST NIGHT!!  These are kids that surely would have invited Zoey... and they did.  via FACEBOOK!  WHAT?!  I'm not on facebook anymore.  I haven't looked at that blasted crap for THREE months!  But I ran to pull it up this morning.  There is was... a photo of a printed invitation.  Posted on my wall five days ago.  Within those past five days, I have seen one of the moms hosting walking her kid to school two times!  No word - barely a hello.  (Which was understandable at the time because we were all emotional or running late or whatever...  but still not even a mention?!)  I learned after Zoey's birthday that no one RSVPs anymore.  So, me not responding to the "invitation" isn't unheard of... Which is totally awful, in my opinion.  TELL people what's going on!  RESPOND, people!  Why no follow up call or text if you really don't want to have to talk to me?  What happened to real invitations?  Is it the expense?  I get that.  Why spend money on cards?  Spend that on the party.  I get it, but seriously...  Five days notice online - when for Zoey's birthday the same Moms told me they "don't do facebook that much" when asked why I hadn't heard from them (and yes, I DID send real paper snail mail invitations too!) 

Now in the grand scheme of things... WHO CARES!?!  Well, I DO!  I care that my kid will hear and see all of her friends talking about a party she didn't "get" to go to.  A party for girls that she LOVES.  Girls that she walks hand-in-hand with from school. 

I cried.  I cried more thinking about that than her words this morning about school.  Although I suppose it all goes together in my mind.  ...

Only getting to see my little girl for four hours a day (plus one in the morning).  Five hours total of her awake.  a. day.  and when she comes home from school - she's happy to see me, yes, but exhausted.  And then we have to work in dinner, homework, a bath, and try to find some time to play.  She MISSES playing.  really.

John had a plan to have a pony pizza party last night.  We ordered pizza and sat on the floor while playing with her my little ponies.  She needed it.  We all did.  Just time to do what she used to do for hours everyday. 

....
When we looked into homeschooling in the spring, the major thing that jumped out to me was the fact a homeschooled child only needs six hours of actual educational time per week....  SIX hours!  That's less than ONE day of public school.... You know why?  Because if a child is being taught at home there are less distractions.  Less time teaching to the lowest common denominator!  Less time "training" kids how to "fit in." 

"Socialization"  my ASS!  My beautiful girl is well spoken.  She interacts well with other kids!  She knows how to play.  Why do I need to throw her to the wolves of public education in order for me to be a "good" mom or for her to be a "normal" kid?!  This is BULLSHIT!

But, truthfully, I'm scared.  Scared that I can't do it.  That I will screw her up.  Scared that I won't have time for myself and therefore be on edge or mean with her.  But at what expense?  At WHO's expense?

There has got to be a better way.

kindergarten.

9:43 a.m.  :44

 

Time is going.  The day is here.  Today is Zoey's first day of Kindergarten.

  

To say I have mixed emotions is the lamest thing ever.  And totally an understatement.  "Mixed" "Bittersweet" "Conflicted" none capture this twisting in my heart.  This scattering in my brain.  This pit in my stomach.  And, now, piercing pain in my lower back... (however that could simply be my bad desk chair.) ;)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I know I'm not the first or last mother to have an only child that I send off to school.  Right or wrong, I'm not the first or last to have stayed at home and "helicopter" parented for 5 years.  And I know I'm not the first to have considered homeschooling.  But I am me.  This is my blog and my feelings. 

 

I am the first and only me...with the first and only Zoey, a tall child with bright blonde hair and beaming blue eyes.  A child with an impeccable memory.  An empathic being with razor sharp wit.  Zoey is a little girl with an old soul.  She is outgoing and shy all wrapped into one.  She's a five year old with comedic timing and a temper. 

 

Now she's off to school.  A rite of passage in this community.  Smiles all around as we walked to school this morning.

 

Walked.  Down the hill and around the corner.  All of ten minutes at most.  She assured me that as she got older, and as her legs got longer, she will walk faster.  I'm sure she heard me mention that to someone over the summer as we did a trial run of our soon-to-be ritual morning.  I said it only as a cute aside to another adult... How her little legs only go so fast. Precious to me.  I fear she thought that she just didn't have it - wasn't right in some way.  Wasn't big enough or fast enough.  I certainly hope not. 

 

These days she's constantly standing on chairs and things asking how long til she will be "this tall" or "that tall."  We try to guess...  "I think you'll be 8 when you are this tall."  "You might be 14 when you are this tall."  All the while reassuring her (and myself) that the height she is now is perfect.  That she is already TALL.  That she is growing everyday and to enjoy being "this tall" right now.

 

The flowers on our way to school. 
"Look Zoey, purple flowers just for you!"

My sweet tall girl walked confidently to school today.  We passed by a lot of people stopping to say Hi and good luck.  Most thought today was her second day...  they did a staggered start for the Kindergarten classes and she is the second half of the alphabet.  I don't know whether it took the pressure off or not?!  She didn't really know the difference, but I got a buffer from the massive onslaught of kids returning to school.  That and being off of Facebook recently has kept me away from others retellings...  good or bad?!  I don't know.

 

John and I met with her teacher briefly on Tuesday night.  She seems like a very nice lady.  Been teaching for 10 years or so.  Has kids of her own at the school. 

 

The side entrance to school.

Her coat hook and her cubby off to the left behind her.

 

 

The school itself is old and hot and muggy.  John went to the same school 30 years ago.  The lady Zoey will have next year will be the same one John had for first grade (her last year before retirement).  I think everyone is doing the best with what they have, but I can't help think there has to be a better way.  This thought, alongside the idea of having time for myself while she is at school, is what makes my stomach knot up.  Why can I not be able to achieve both: 1. a quality education in an environment where students are comfortable and taught valuable lessons in more than reading and basic math and the ever thrown around "socialization" 2. a time/schedule where I can pursue avenues to keep my mind and heart thriving...?! 

 

I suppose that is what keeps parents moving forward...  actively seeking the best for all involved. 

 

I know Zoey will love school.  I know she will learn.  I know John and I will encourage her and supplement her education/life long learning.  I know that she will develop into her own little person - in a good way.  I know I will find a path of my own that includes all aspects of the massive spinning thoughts in my head.  I know this...  simply because I have to.  That and I have faith. 

 

"Faith," said my friend Christine, "that you've given her the best start you could have and that she'll flourish with the skills and love that have been her foundation."

 



The familiar nervous, but ok, look on her sweet little face. 



 Back at home:

We told Zoey that she couldn't take Bunny to Kindergarten.  We have told her this from the beginning.  She understands, but wanted to make sure Bunny was well set at home.  At HIS school.... So yesterday we made Bunny a school in her room.

 

She added the toys in the window sill just before we left the house....

 

 When she woke up I heard her explaining to her animals that they couldn't go with her to school.  "Because toys aren't allowed at school."  But she reassured them they would be fine and had jobs to do here.  Cat in the Hat is the teacher today. 

 

The light in the middle is to help tell spooky ghost stories at school.
The Pink hippo in the back is to help talk about animals.
There is also a chalkboard and a playground. 

*As always, Bunny is dressed in his day clothes and shoes.  (Aunt Tracy, the orange sweater is only for pajamas these days.)  ;) 

Quotable

"When me and my mom have a baby, I'm gonna be a big sister." -Zoey

Evidentally she said this to John just now...  while they were outside.  She's picking freshly sprouted blooms.  He's prepping the grill.  (He came in to tell me...  "This is a very quotable zoey blog post.")

I suppose this stems from past conversations about siblings and such.  Plus the fact that she wanted to dress up her teddy bear in clothes this afternoon...  so we opened up a box of her old baby clothes in the basement.  Looking at even the tiniest share of what I have held onto... it simply floods my mind.  

Headband.

It's a beautiful sunnny day here at the manor... and I'm sitting  inside at the computer.  WHAT?  Yes.  It's Monday.  I told myself I will take this precious time (while Z is at school - the precious 2.5 hours) and pay bills, do laundry, etc. etc.  And I am.  Bills- Check!  Laundry - in process - check!

I have the windows open (40 degrees, yo! Spring is coming!)

I have Pandora blarring.

But I had to take this minute to update...  remember... make a mental (and now forever, electronic) note.

"Look what my Mom made for me!"

...said Zoey as she climbed out of the car today in front of the preschool.  She was showing her friends and her teacher the Hello Kitty headband that I "made."  She continued to explain and show... very proudly. 

It's simple, really.  We have been recycling the little HK bow that came on a headband that Gma Pat gave her a few weeks ago.  Each time the little plastic band breaks, we move the bow to a new headband.  This morning it happend again...  stuck in her long hair.  frustrated.  pulling.  SNAP!

It was her idea this time to improve the purple sparkly one that I had bought her for valentine's day...  the one that she has never worn because - DUH - there's no Hello Kitty (or Barbie or Dora or Minnie Mouse or any of the things she likes or could like).  Bingo.

Except this time it wasn't simply adding the bow... we had to take off my original super glue fix of before - disassemble said purple sparkly one...  swap Miss Kitty...  find new ribbon... yadda yadda.  Nothing too major, really.  But she watched me this morning and evidentally it made an impact.

This time I made the headband.  Made it for her. 

Yes, it really is the little things in life.  Not even the headband.  ...

Her voice.
Her words.  Her words strung together in her own way. 
Her own thoughts.
Our time together.

Sometimes I fear getting caught up in the laundry.  the bills. sweeping. cleaning. text messages. dinner making.  altogether doing.  day in and out.

I fear she feels that we aren't really spending time together.  I fear the time eating lunch together watching Sid, the Science Kid isn't quality.  That building puzzles on the floor isn't as creative as when she builds amazing forts in the front room with her dad. 

Or worse, that the times when I yell or get frustrated will be sealed into her memory far longer than the cuddles at bedtime. 

And then I take a damn mintue and listen to her.  watch her. 

It's all beautiful.  It's all ok. 

...

John and I went to a big fancy event on Saturday....  it was really nice.  I hope to write about it - get back at this thing.... as it feels good to write again... 

Anyhoo, at the event, someone asked me what I was up to these days... what I did now... as we hadn't really talked in years. 

"I'm at home," I said. 

"Good for you," he said.  And I really think he meant it.  His working wife and mother of their two kids standing right next to me. 

And then he proceeded to tell me that if I ever wanted to do anything besides "be just a mom" I could call him for x, y, z... work.  Quickly covering his ass about "well, not just a mom..." and so on.  This exact thing has happened a few times in the last four and a half years.  This time, however, I'm pretty sure was the first time I had no desire to be more than "just a mom."

Just as my baby is transforming into a free-thinking, lovable person of the exterior world at large.

Just as I am allowing myself to accept the flowing praise of my husband and partner.

Just as I can really see the results of the work that I do. 

It's a constant struggle in my own mind - mom, wife, college grad, artist, perfectionist, designer, writer, procrastinator, serial volunteer, and on and on... 

The one thing I am not... a race car driver.  Time to go to school for pick up.  ;) 

and that's ok

While watching a Super Why episode where Pig is upset because he is different from his friends... "Look.  Person, person, person... pig.  I'm different." he says.

Zoey says, "When I see someone different, like Daniel Tiger - he's a tiger - I say that's ok."

Yes. That's ok.  :)

The question.

Tonight after Zoey's bath, prayers, and another chapter from "Adventure Cat goes to School,"  the kitties curled up on her bed with us and we just lying there.  Talking some...  about our kitties.  About other kitties.  About our day at Grandma's for our third of four Christmases this year.  About how we must smell like Calico (the cat at Grandma's).  She told me about playing with Delia and Calico in Grandpa Stan's room.

Then it happened.

She asked the question I can't answer.

"Where is Grandpa Stan?  I haven't seen him in a long time."

I felt like I was kicked in the gut.  Literally...  My gut sank in.  The tears welled up.

"Well..."  I said.  (Thoughts about ...he was sick...  he died...  no, no, that's not it...  ummm...  ummm... She's four.  Don't scare her.)

"Do your teachers talk about heaven in school?"  (Of course they do...  they had a birthday party for Jesus the week before Christmas....)

"Yes," she said.

"What do they tell you?"  and she proceeded to sign and sing a song about heaven.  She showed me the signs.

I could have left it at that...  not really answering her...  but I couldn't.

"Well, that's where Grandpa Stan is...  in heaven."

"Why?" she said...

(Oh boy...)

"Because it was his time to go be with God,"  I said through the tears - trying to hold myself together.

Then we continued to talk about it...  sort of.

I said I missed him and asked if she missed him.  She said No.  That she was happy he was with God and wondered if he was a "siple"...

"A disciple?" I asked.  And she proceeded to sing another song - that I'm not so sure she was sure of the words.... because I couldn't quite catch them.

She asked about my tears.  I really couldn't say much.  Just tried to make it through...  not get too blubbery and hoped not to get her crying.  (She tends to cry whenever I do.)

But she didn't cry.

We just kinda layed there, next to each other...  with the kitties. 

I'm not so good with this stuff...  not good with death or religion or anything. 

But thinking back on this...  I am simply in awe of my sweet little girl.  Four and a half years old...  she remembers so much.  She feels so much.  Is so loving and kind.  so sweet. 

Through the tears, I am blessed.

Daddy, I love you.  I miss you.  You are forever with us. 

"What ELSE makes you happy?"

What a question!

Last night (aka early this morning - like 6 a.m.) Zoey woke up with a tummy ache... and the wee poops.  Digging out the ol' Elmo toilet seat cover, a short time in our bed, a short time with Daddy on the floor in her room, and finally (most likely NOT sleeping) on the couch with  Daddy... she's ok this breakfast time.  Watching Netflix cartoons.  She told me she wasn't feeling well last night, but now she's good.  I said, "That makes me so HAPPY!"  She said, "What else makes you happy?"

And we started to list things that make us happy....  I thought this was a perfect opportunity to write a few down (just my own, because she's now too busy eating cereal and running in place with "Bo on the Go."  A multi-tasker, indeed.)

Hugs from Zoey
Kisses from Daddy
A good cup of coffee
A deep breath of fresh smelling air
The sunshine on a cool day
Fiestaware big handled mugs
Homegrown WV tomatoes
Creating some art that comes out remotely like I had intended...or better
Being in a theatre
Lunchdates with Zoey
Dinnerdates with John
Planning a party
Going to someone else's party
Getting an unexpected letter in the mail
Feeling that my house is clean
This precious being:

and more....

What makes you happy...  right now?!

one very observant toddler...

This is so funny that I stopped in the middle of lunch to write it down!  We are sitting here eating lunch... Zoey has asked (very nicely, mind you) to have the mirror placed near her.  She's carefully eating her dessert (grapes).  When out of nowhere she says,

"This gumball machine doesn't have any place to get out the gum balls?!"

"What?"  I said.

(Pointing to her shirt that has a pink graphic gumball machine on it.)  "This gumball machine, on my shirt, doesn't have any place to get the gumballs out."

"You're RIGHT!"  I said. (pretty shocked... because she is, in fact, RIGHT!  The one on her shirt has a place for the coin and a turn knob, but NO place for the balls to come out.)   "You are very observant."

Then she went right back to making faces at herself in the mirror and eating her grapes. 

****Ah, sweet child.  Sweet, SMART, child...  :)


On this note, I'll also add what happened yesterday (at lunch as well).

We were out shopping trying to find some long sleeved shirts and pants for this long baby...  My sister reminded me that our upcoming trip to the mountains could be rather chilly.  Time was passing, clothes were not to be found (yet).  It was late and time to EAT!  We stopped at Panera.  (Not usually where I like to take a toddler...  but I have finally found something that Z likes and me too... finally.)  We had a bit of a rough start (at the counter)...  not having eaten when we should have...  but we got our food, sat down, and had a really lovely lunch. 

The place was pretty busy and we ended up at a little table situated pretty much IN the booth next to us.  Well, you know what I mean... We were close.  But I never really paid a bit of attention to anyone else but Z and the manager sitting on our other side who was gracious enough to "keep an eye on" Zoey while I went to get the drinks.  As the elderly couple in the booth started to clean up their table and leave, the man started to talk to me about Zoey.  He was very flattering - saying how well behaved she was and what a pleasure it was to see us in the restaurant.  It was really sweet.  As we chatted, he said something that stuck with me...  "Having a child and being a parent are very different things."  How true.  How true. 

He also said that we very both very lucky.  Me lucky to have such a nice kid and she was lucky to have a mom like me.  It was so sweet and unexpected. 

The funniest part was, as we chatted, he told me he thought Zoey was 6 years old!  He almost fell out of the booth when I told him she was just 3.  :)  When his wife came back, she was pretty shocked too at the age.  She probably wouldn't have said 6 (as usually women have a bit better sense of those kinda things), but she was not even thinking 3.  ...Especially when Zoey held up her fingers and told them she was "free." 

The threes are trying at times.  very trying.  for both me and Zoey.  Emotions run at the surface.  We each have our own ideas of what is to be done "right now."  While I know I can always do better....  who's better is really best?  I'm quite proud of the little person that John and I are raising together. 

I just hope she has nice things to say to her therapist later on...  HA!!  ;p

What's in a name?

I came home one afternoon to find a beautiful and interesting invitation hanging on my doorknob...  it was a sawg of pine, dusted with gold, with the card attached to it.  The envelope had only my name.

I said, "Zoey look at this card.  It has my name on it.  Would you like to see it?"

Z: "Yes."

Me: "Look, it has my name on it."  (We made tiny fake mail "envelopes" with people's names on them when she was younger... to play with her little Elmo mailbox and try to learn to recognize names, etc.) 

Z: "Yes.  Mama Elizabeth Miller!"

Me:  (smiling!!) "Your name is Zoey Elizabeth. My name is Trisha Joy Miller."

Z:  "Yes!  Trisha Mama Miller!"

Me:  "Yes.  Exactly."

Cooker.

Tonight while cooking dinner:

Zoey: "You're not a chef."
Me: "I'm not?!  What am I?"
Zoey:  "You're not a chef.  You're a good cooker."

I'll take that any day!  :) 

Family.

In the front room this afternoon, I saw this:  (I talked with her, then ran to get the camera!)

Z: "It's nice to have a family."
Me: "Yes, it is.  Is this your family?"
Z: "Yes, the bunny is the daddy.  You are the grandma.  I'm the mommy."  (The baby- in the swing- was obviously her baby, as she was feeding her with a baby spoon, etc...)

Oh, how I love MY baby!!  ;) 

"Sleep tight."

This was Zoey tonight before getting ready for bath and bed...  She was "putting the cars to sleep" she said.  Talking to each one of them (and as you might be able to see...  putting each car on its side.  I'm assuming to rest even better.)  After tucking in every car, she whispered "sleep tight" softly as she closed up the table runner (that's the mulicolored piece standing up on the purple yoga mat). 

It's the little things that make my heart sing.  I am so blessed. 

*Forgive the picture quality.  I took this on my non-fancy phone.  :)

Breakfast

While watching our morning PBS Kids, "Steve Songs" was singing about what you like to do....  as in, the kids said things like "I like to draw."  "I like stories."  Without missing a beat Zoey said, "I like to EAT."

That's my girl.  ;)

This morning (and what should have been at least three different posts)!

This morning I woke up early - rather, I was restless starting way too early to get out of bed.  ...probably 4 a.m. or something ridiculous.  I wanted to get a drink of water, but was a) too lazy and 2) if you know this house, one step on the floor makes LOUDness across the whole damn place.  Seriously, one step and the fake-wood to metal ratio of 70s ranch home construction sends Vietnam Vets into flashbacks!  Needless to say, Zoey has learned to sleep through many things throughout the night, but at 4 a.m. or after... NO WAY, Nancy-lads, are you gonna roll over and possibly make the bed shift against the dang floor!   Whoa, or else you might just be up making eggs before sunrise.

In any case, I was in my awake/sleep restlessness...  I must've started dreaming because the next thing I remember is waking to hear John get up and go get Zoey.  Normally, I go get her and he jumps in the shower, but I must have been dead to the world (and by that I mean still wrapped up in my uber vivid dream).  All I remember about it was I think John and I were getting married, I lived in a dorm of somekind and no one was helping me prepare to walk down the aisle.  The only remaining visual is of some past friends of ours all in wedding gowns (dude in his 60s and his wife and their daughter... yes, even the guy in a wedding gown.  - with bare mid-section!  Nice Abs, Dan.)  Creepy.  ;)

For whatever reason when I finally did get my arse outta that bed...  well, I thought I was ok.  In a good mood.  But isn't that the thing, MOOD...  at least in my family...  you think you are in a good mood and for whatever reason life sucks... err rather, the your reactions to the world suck.  I couldn't shake it.  Nothing was wrong.  Everything was like every other day...  but damn, I could have screamed or cried.  or who knows. 

While trying to get ready to get out of this house... do SOMETHING... must. get. out. of. here.  (I used to be quite happy staying in my "work" clothes all day - floppy pants and T, sometimes PJs - all day.  And working... cleaning... whatnot... but not so much any more.  Perhaps it's because Zoey naps in the afternoon as opposed to morning.  Perhaps it's the sunshine outside and the fact very little light enters the room I spend most of my time in...  Perhaps I'm just done with being a hermit.  I'll never really know.)  Well, as I was saying...  trying to leave...  Zoey's normal not-cooperating hit me like a ton of smelly sweatsocks.  I could see the potential of myself falling into a crazed heap or yelling or crying, but I could see the situation - from outside almost...  I started talking to myself (outloud...my normal talking to myself is in my head.  Oh, don't judge, I know everyone does it in some form or another.)  and to God.  I don't normally do that.  Yes, I pray.  {Insert random Steel Magnolias joke}  But this felt different, almost like I was watching myself in a movie.  Perhaps I'm getting too involved with my current bedtime reading "Eat, Pray, Love."  ?! 

Whatever the case.  I wanted to pull out of my mood...  Wanted to pull my kid out of her mood...  Wanted to get OUT of the house...  So, we did.  No, it wasn't like a golden light spotlighted us and the music swelled...  no.  It took awhile.  It took us keeping on moving.  It took some groovy tunes in the car.  It took most of the morning... 

*Oh and it took some help from our favorite little bunny!! He helped Zoey poopy on the POTTY this morning!!  In the midst of all the mood-ness, we pulled ourselves together to facilitate some potty action, jackson!  WHoot!! 

We went to Big Lots to buy some dirt for our ever-changing gardening plans.  (More on that later.) And to get Z a little toy for her poopness.  :)  The store was more evidence of my desires to gain control of the familial moodiness/crazy.  We did well.  (but ...Future Me, I'm telling you, you did a good job - a work in progress made progress!)

Boy Howdy, I'm talky this afternoon!  On to the real reason for this post... Zoey and I had a lovely little impromptu lunch at The Bakery.  We were lucky enough to be able to sit outside and enjoy the MOST perfect weather.  Not too hot.  Sunny, yet we were shaded.  It was wonderful.  Zoey even ate her entire lunch!  (She's usually a great eater, but I have to give praise where due.) 

I didn't have my camera.  Here we sat... in the beautiful weather... in a beautiful place... with "photographs" everywhere.  I thought, I never would have even thought about a camera before, but now I miss it.  So, I snapped a couple on my humble phone.  I've never tried to post phone pix before...  let's see how they turn out. 



Zoey with part of her potty prize... She picked out a plastic ice cream set.  "For my kitchen," she said.  We took out a few pieces and washed them in the sink there.



Lunch!  Outside!  In the fresh air!  :) 

As we sat there, I looked at the pretty pansies in the flower boxes.  So pretty!! I thought about Grandma.  I told Zoey (again) that they were her favorites.  When a friend of mine walked by and chatted with us, she asked Zoey if she knew what they were (because Z had pointed to them or something).  Zoey replied, "They are Grandma Freda."  I explained to my friend what Z meant.  But I think Zoey is right.  Pansies really are Grandma Freda - forver to me and now to her.

*Ah, but a bit of something else for those of you who have been through the Bakery-visiting journey with us the last two years...  Zoey does NOT like Jane.  No way, no how.  She simply adores Barb!  But doesn't want to have anything to do otherwise.  I have never once said anything to her about anything from the past.  I have alway been positive. Once we decided to go back, I wanted everything to be cool.  I missed having a beautiful place to go.  Whatever the case, today Miss Z said, "I don't like that lady.  I don't like her." I don't know if anyone else heard her or not. 

When we got outside, I told Z that "that lady" wouldn't ever be mean to her, but that she was good to trust her gut.  "Always trust your gut," I said.  Believe in your inner voice, I thought.  It has taken me many, many years to think about my own inner voice (and I still struggle with being a people pleaser).  We had a little conversation about it - mostly me talking, since she was watching the cars on the road, the bugs in the air, and whatever else toddlers fancy...  but I hope she heard my love.  At least that. 

It's tough, this parenting thing...  there are so many options on how to handle every situation - good and bad.  There's hardly ever a "right" or "correct" way.  I think we did ok today.  :)

Spinning!

Catching up on my Zoey quotes...  I give you one she uses frequently these days:

While she's spinning around in circles, arms outstretched. 

"I'm spiiinning.  I'm spinning....  I'm spiiiinning! I'm spinning... (stops spinning.  Trying to stay upright.) Uh Oh, our house is gonna fall over!"

While spinning outside...

"I'm spinning. I'm spinning.  I'm spiiinning....  (stops.)  Uh Oh, the outside is gonna fall over!"

Sometimes it sounds like she says "I'm spanning.." which is too cute!

Quotable Zoey.

My kid is brillant.  (Isn't everyone's?!)  HA!  No really, she is.  Sometimes she says things to me that blow me away.  Sometimes she's just plain funny.

I've been trying to write things down...  but I often end up losing the paper or forgetting.  I have put little things on FB because I think it's faster or easier.  Truthfully, I think FB might reach more people...but then again, I hope this blog lasts.  I don't think I'll be able to look back at FB status remarks in 5 or 10 years, but hopefully this blog will still be here.

I'm going to try to tell YOU, my loyal readers, those funny and remarkable little things sweet Zoey says.  And sometimes the thoughts themselves aren't fancy - but I get caught up in the fact that this little human - this little person - this person that John and I MADE...  well, that she's not even three yet and she is a perfectly thinking individual.

Starting with Friday, May 13, 2011, the last time I made hummus...  She says to me minutes after tasting the batch (without any provocation):

"You're a great hummus maker, Mommy!" 

It fills my heart with joy!