Hats: I Just Don't Care For 'Em!

Hats make my hair all bad-messy!

 Hiya, Friends!

Can you tell me something?  Why do you Big People think babies like to war hats and socks?  I want you to listen to me on this one, because it's really important.  We don't like 'em!  At least I don't!

And now that the weather is getting a bite to it, Mommy's constantly trying to shove my feet into socks, and to stuff my head under a hat.  She has this pink hat with a flower on it that she tells me is cool.  'Hipster,' I think the word is that she uses.  Well, I don't WANT to be a hipster, if I even knew what that was, especially if these hipsters wear hats.

See, hats make my head hot, and then I sweat, and my hair gets all messy.  I mean bad-messy.  See, there's two kinds of messy hair.  The first kind is stylish-messy, and the other messy is 'Mommy Made Me Wear A Hat And This Is What It Did To My Hair' messy.  The picture of me at left is the second kind of messy.  See how my curly fin on top is sproinged all over the place, without a rhyme or a reason?  It's not the nice whippy-dip curl I strive so hard to achieve when I do my hair.

My hat makes a good toy.  Not a good hat.

Mommy says that the hat is to keep my head from getting cold, since I don't have a lot of hair yet.  Always having to take a jab at my thin-hairedness, that Mommy.  But I counter her with the fact that my head ISN'T cold, and I'm not cold.  In fact, I'm pretty warm.  I agree to wearing my legwarmers, but she better not dare trying to put shoes or socks on my feet.  My feet being able to breathe keeps the whole rest of me comfortable.

I don't know.  Maybe come wintertime, I might enjoy a hat or socks a little more.  Right now, I feel like both are a nuisance meant to be cast off at every opportunity. 

What I do know is this: I don't care for socks and hats right now, and I doubt I'm the only baby in the world who feels this way, so I just wish Big People would think twice before they try to make us wear them.  That's all I'm saying, Friends.  I'm not trying to pick a fight.  I'm just sharing my likes and dislikes.  You can keep on wearing a hat and socks if you like, but I don't like.  That's all.

I know why the Mad Hatter went mad!

Turquoise Plastic Cup

Wish this was full of milkshake!

It's a megaphone!

 I recently came into the possession of a few large plastic tumblers, Friends, and I've got to say, they're pretty much one of the best things ever, collectively.  I can do so many things with them.  I can stack them, I can roll them, I can fill 'em up with some of my little toys.  Sophie the Giraffe is talking about wearing one for Halloween, and being a Little Giraffe Dressed Up As A Big Plastic Cup.  I thought that was clever.

I'm dressing up in my costume from last year and being a pig again, on actual Halloween.

Back to my big plastic tumblers, though. I think they'll be pretty fun to use in the pool.  They look like they'd be good to scoop up water with.  Or maybe if I could get a sandbox.  I'd like to pretend I'm on the beach, and I've mentioned I'd like a sandbox, and these plastic tumblers would be great playing in a sandbox, but as you know, I've been asking for a water cooler and disco ball for months now, and not seen hide nor hair of either, so getting a sandbox is probably a longshot, too.  But a girl can dream, and I'm all about dreaming dreams!

This playpen would be way better as a sandbox!

 I guess someday, I'm going to be drinking things like water and milk and other beverages out of cups like this, without any straws, even!  That's really crazy for me to think about, since my whole life, I've always had a bottle, or a cup with a spout, or my straw-cups.  It'll seem weird just drinking out of the cup all by itself.  I'll admit, I'm kind of nervous about it.  I don't want to spill my drink all down the front of me and have people wonder if I'm a baby or extremely uncoordinated or something!

Turquoise Plastic Cup, I'm glad I picked you up!

But I think I have a long time before I have to think about not using a straw, don't I, Big People?  I think so.  So until then, I'll just enjoy playing with my Turquoise Plastic Cup, and stacking them, and rolling them, and listening to the sound it makes when I throw it on the floor.  I'll have fun seeing Sophie the Little Giraffe dress up like a Big Plastic Cup for Halloween, and I won't worry about the day when I have to drink out of a cup without a lid or spout or straw!  There's just no point, worrying, is there?

Thirteen Months!

Hiya, Friends!  Zoe here!  Hey, yesterday was the 9th, which is the day I turned 13 Months Old!  I love the Number Thirteen!  It sounds a little sinister at first, because some people think it's unlucky, but I think it's great!  First of all, it's a prime number, which means it can be divided only by the number one and itself.  That's pretty cool to me.  And the other reason I like it is because 13 is the number in a Baker's Dozen, which means you get thirteen cookies or donuts instead of just twelve!  How about that?

Anyway, since I'm 13 months old, now, I kind of wanted to look back at the things I was doing on the other thirteens of my life. 

For instance, I was 13 seconds old, once, way back on September 9, 2011.  At thirteen seconds old, I don't think I'd gotten over the shock yet, of being here.  It's a little fuzzy for me. 

13 minutes old- I woulda smiled, if I hadn't had to wear a hat!

Then I was 13 minutes old, not long after I was just 13 seconds old.  I was being weighed and measured, and wrapped up in blankets, and the nurses put a hat on my head.  I didn't care much for hats then, either, but honestly, I was too tired to fight about it.  I'd just been on kind of an intense trip, and they thought I needed a hat.  I was fine without it, but whatever.  Looking back, I wish I'd raised more of a fuss about the hat.  I feel as though I really set a precedent with not fighting the hat when I was 13 minutes old.  Now, Mommy thinks it's okay just to plop a hat on my head, and she gets upset when I pull it right back off.  If I'd really insisted on NO HATS, LADIES, that night when I was 13 minutes old, I feel like this wouldn't be such a battle to this day, with the hats.

13 hours old: A little cake would have been just the thing.  It was my birthday!

Next, I was 13 hours old, would have been 1:33 p.m. on September 9th, 2011.  You know, I wish I'd a known then what I do now about birthdays.  That was my birthday, Friends!  And even though we were in the hospital, I bet somebody could have brought me a cake!  Maybe they could have run to Giant and picked one up.  It wouldn't have needed to be very fancy.  I didn't have good eyesight when I was 13 hours old.  But I bet I would have loved cake.  I love cake now.  Some people might think I have a cake addiction, since I talk about cake all the time, and think about it a lot, and try to figure out ways to get more cake.  But I think it's just natural, Big People.  Have you tried cake?  Isn't it wonderful?  I bet everybody would welcome more cake into their lives, if it were offered.  So mark my words, if I'd a known anything different, back when I was thirteen hours old, I would have pressed the call button and asked the nurse to bring me some cake, because it was my birthday, and maybe a party favor and balloon.  That would have been the ticket.

I was tuckered out the day I turned 13 days old.  It was a busy week!

I turned 13 days old on Thursday, September 22, 2011.  I remember it was a quiet day, when I rode in my swing and enjoyed some Similac whenever I wanted it.  No cake.  No muss or fuss that day, either.  That had been quite an eventful week, though.  That Tuesday, I went to my doctor's office for the first time.  Mommy fed me right before we left home, but then I got hungry in the waiting room, and that Mommy didn't have any bottles with her, and we'd decided formula was for us, so there we were, stuck like a truck in mud, but my doctor brought me in a little box of to-go bottles, and I sucked down 4 ounces, right in front of my doctor, as though Mommy had been starving me!  I didn't mean to make it look like that.  Even when I was thirteen days old, Mommy took good care of me, and I know I ate right before we left the house, but thing is, it takes half an hour to get to my doctor's, and that wouldn't be such a big thing, but I think I was nervous, seeing my doctor again for the first time since I was just in the hospital, and I also think that when I was thirteen days old, I was a little bit of a stress eater, so if you think of it like that, it makes sense that I'd get hungry like that at my doctor's, and eat 4 ounces of formula, even though I just had 2 ounces before I left my house.  So there was that, and then the next morning, that Wednesday, the hospital called, and said I needed to come back to where I was born, so the nurses could do the heel-stick test again, so Mommy and I loaded up into our silver Jeep and went back to the hospital, just us, and back up to the maternity ward we went.  It was good seeing everybody again.  It really was.  I could have done without having my heel stuck with a needle, but hey, it wasn't so bad.  So I guess that's why we just hung out at home and relaxed on the day I turned thirteen days old.  I remember swinging in my Snugabunny swing a lot that day, and Rozzie checking in on me sometimes, laying her head beside me.  I love that Rozzie!  And then, the day after I turned thirteen days old, I went to stay the day at Gramma's, just us, for the first time!  It was great!  I got to watch the kitties, and listen to 60s dance music, and sleep in a clothes basket!  I had so much fun that day!

13 Weeks Old: Watchin' the hockey game!

 I turned 13 weeks old on Friday, December 9th, 2011, and I remember the day well.  It was coldish, but not awfully cold.  We had to take the New Red Jeep to Chilson Wilcox in Erwin that morning, to get its oil change, and I got to hang out at the dealership while it was being done.  Mommy, and Daddy, and I all went!  Mommy and Daddy took me to our Mall afterward!  I'd already been to the Ross Park Mall in Pittsburgh, where I met my friend Santa Claus, but the Arnot Mall will always feel like 'my' mall, and it was fun to see it all dressed up for Christmas!  Then when we got home, there was a hockey game on.  I loved hockey games!  I remember my Sabres were playing the Florida Panthers that night.  I'm pretty sure they won, because I said to Daddy 'They better win for my 13 week birthday!'  And I think they did.  Boy I wish I could watch a hockey game right now!  I've heard on the news the reason I haven't seen any hockey games is because the players are locked out, and I guess they never got my message with Austin Locksmith's number, so they could just have that fellow who let me and Mommy back into the Jeep that day let the players back in so they can play their games.  But anyway, that's what my day was like the day I turned 13 weeks old.

13 Months Old: I'm just gettin' started, Big People!

And that brings us to yesterday, Friends.  The day I turned 13 months old.  It was a pretty uneventful day.  Beautiful weather.  Crispy air.  I got to eat some Puffs, and beef, and avocado, and carrots, and applesauce, and white sweet potato, and drink real milk out of a cup with a straw, and I did some serious playing in my office.  I sang with Rozzie.  Mommy made me take a nap.  She always does, because killing my buzz is Mommy's job, but it's okay.  Between you and me, I felt refreshed and wide-awake after my nap.  But don't tell my Mommy I said that.  If you do, I'll deny I said it!  I really will!

I feel like I've come a long way, even though it feels just like yesterday, sort of, that I was only 13 seconds old, and too nekkid to put up a picture of me here.  I've had a lot of fun on all those thirteens!  It's fun being here, you know.  And now, I get cake!  I got cake at my birthday party, on my actual birthday, the day Mommy and Gramma went to Ruby Tuesday for Mommy's birthday.... I thought I had it good, right when I got to the hospital, but I'll tell you something, Big People, it just keeps getting better!  I love it here! 

Learnin' How To Speak Pittsburghese!

It's smart to learn to speak the language of the place you're going to visit!

Hiya, Friends!  Zoe here!  Well, in a few days, I'm going on a trip to Pittsburgh.  My main purpose for going is to see my Aunt Colleen and Uncle Lorentz, but another thing I hope to accomplish is to get some practical practice speaking my second language, Pittsburghese!

I don't know if you've noticed, but the twice I've been to the Steel City, I have been baffled by the local parlance.  To be fair, the first time I went, I wasn't even three months old yet.  But I will admit that my own lack of knowledge took my breath away, when I went to Pittsburgh over the summer.

Gum bands, for instance.  I overheard someone ask someone else  for a gum band, and all I could think of was that it sounded fun and delicious.  I thought it was something like a gum-drop, with flavor and sugar, and a little stretch.  Imagine my shock and surprise to find out that a gum band is a rubber-band!  There's nothing delicious about a rubber band!  And if you get snapped with one, it really hurts!

Dahntahn Pixburgh, here I come!

Then I heard about jumbo sandwiches.  Boy, I thought, I could go for a jumbo sandwich, maybe a big grilled cheese, with a juicy slice of tomato, and a pickle.  I'm really hungry, and a regular grilled cheese sandwich won't do. I've heard that 'jumbo' means bigger than regular-sized.  So I said, yeah!  I'll have a jumbo sandwich.  Guess what a jumbo sandwich is.  Guess!  It has nothing to do with how big the sandwich is, and there's no juicy tomato slices.  Jumbo sandwiches, in Pittsburghese, are what the rest of us call bologna sandwiches!  I said that bologna was above my pay grade and went and had pureed carrots instead.  Boy, was I disappointed!

So in that spirit of hoping to avoid more ignernts on my part, I've taken it upon myself to learn Pittsburghese, inside and out, without being too nebby.  Before I go to the Arn City, my room needs redd up an'at, and when I get to Pixburgh, I'm going to run across to the Jynt Igl to pick up some chip-chop ham for some sammitches for my stay at Aunt Colleen's.  I am rilly looking forward to going, but I hope the roads don't get slippy on our way there!  Maybe Aunt Colleen and Uncle Lorentz will take me to a rill stillmill!

How'd I sound, Friends?  Didja think I'd gone native Pittsburgh?  Did I fool ya?  Boy oh boy, I can't wait to try out some of my new skills.  Learning a foreign language is a lot of fun!  I can't wait to practice in real life!

What's Better Than a Toy that Makes Noise?

Oh my goodness, it sings, too!

Hiya, Big People!  Zoe here.  Hey.  I've got a riddle for you.  What's better than a toy that makes noise?  Do you know?  Well I'll tell you.

The only thing better than a toy that makes noise is having all your toys that make noise, playing all at once!  Some people might call this a cacophony, but I call it great! 

I like to hear how all the sounds layer and mix and meld with each other.  Then I like to hear if I can separate out just one element of the party, and really focus on it. 

Sometimes, I come across some really exciting and interesting juxtapositions.  For instance, my Ballapalooza plays upbeat, 80s- sounding music, and my keyboard plays classical, my activity table plays blues, and my Apptivity Monkey sort of sounds a little rag-timey.  And all those different musics sort of swirl up together and make for some interesting and pleasant listening.

You ought to try it sometime, Friends!  Turn on your radio and hair dryer and vacuum cleaner and blender at the same time, and if you don't trip a breaker, then grind up some coffee, get your dog barking, and maybe make the phone ring, and then just sit back and enjoy the Sound Stew!  It's really fun! 

Wait a minute.  Is the telephone ringing?  Can somebody turn everything off?  I think the phone's ringing.  It could be somebody calling, to take us out for ice cream or donuts or pizza, and we don't want to miss the call!

My Pink Jeep

My first test-drive in my 2011 Pink Jeep!

 I've been driving my Pink Jeep since I was three months old, and I have to say, for my money, it really is the best way to get around.  I love the way the engine sounds, and I love the radio stations.  The horn, too.  Got to let people know I'm coming, so they know to look when I wave!

If traffic's decent, I like to drive the Pink Jeep in to the office.  I have my own parking space and everything.  How about that?  I don't like to do stop-and-start driving in it, though, because the Pink Jeep was meant for wide-open road, or wide-open off-road, not stopping every time it gets good and going.  So on the days when the Bing's experiencing heavy traffic, I take the North Bingham Underground.  I always make sure I have subway tokens in my purse, so I'm never stranded!  Never hurts to plan ahead!

My first traffic stop in my Pink Jeep.  Who knew Rozzie's the 5-0?

Every so often, I load up my Pink Jeep and take my friends with me on road trips, like Sophie the Giraffe, and Sabretooth, my bunny... Now that I think about it, I think it's been too long since I've taken me and my friends on a road trip.  I need to make a note of that and correct it!  Where do we go?  Anywhere we want, really!  As long as it's an adventure!  My Pink Jeep was built for adventure!

This is the day I went for donuts for my co-workers, and the donut place was all out of donuts!  Have you ever heard of such a thing in your whole life?  A donut place being out of donuts?!

 I owe a lot to my Pink Jeep, when you get right down to it, Friends!  Why, without the Pink Jeep, I bet there wouldn't be any The Daily Zoe or The Daily Zoe Blog to enjoy!  See, one day, my coworkers sent me out to fetch coffee and donuts for everybody.  They sent me because I'd been at the office the shortest, and also because I had the least hair.  So I had to go get donuts.  And would you believe the donut place had the nerve to be ALL OUT OF DONUTS!  I mean, they say 'Donuts' right on their big, light-up sign and everything, and there wasn't even a donut to be had in the whole building.  I thought they made them right there, but as it turns out, a semi-truck brings the donuts to the donut place.  Well.  They had an angry me on their hands, didn't they?  I mean, if you're a donut place, you just shouldn't run out!  And one thing led to another, and I got a free box of Munchkins and The Daily Zoe show over on the Facebook.  That's how it happened!  If I hadn't had the Pink Jeep, I wouldn't have been sent out for the donuts the Donut place didn't have! 


I guess I probably owe a little bit to the donut place being out of donuts, too, even though that fried my fritters that day.  I wouldn't have gotten all grizzly bear, if they'd had the donuts, as planned.  I would have just given the donut dude my money, put the donuts in my Pink Jeep, and headed back to the office for the usual workaday antics that go on in a place of work.

Isn't it funny how things can work out like that, Big People?  Something that, at the time, seems like a Great Big Nuisance turns out to get you to something pretty neat?  This ol' world is a place of endless wonder, at least I think.  You just never know what's around the next corner or over the next bridge!

Keepin' the Pink Jeep all shined up!  I never know when I'll run into a Pink Jeep Show!

On that note, Friends, I'm thinking about corners and bridges and hills, valleys, and roads cut through the woods, and my feet are itchin' to take the Pink Jeep for a spinaroo.  Maybe something wondrous will happen on my drive, and maybe not.  Either way, I know I'll have a good day, because I get to drive my Pink Jeep!

 You have a good day, too!  Zoe loves you!  Muah!

Why I'm So Happy All the Time

What makes me so happy?

 Hiya, Friends!  Zoe here!  People ask me all the time where I get all my energy, and why I'm so happy.  I've even been asked if my Mommy gives me any of Honey Boo-Boo Child's "Go-Go Juice."

Now, I don't drink juice, and I didn't know what a Honey Boo-Boo Child is, so I had to do some sleuthing on the Internet.  The Internet knows EVERYTHING!  And after I found out what both a Honey Boo-Boo Child is and what Go-Go Juice is, I hafta say, 'Good lord, NO!'

I'm sorry, what's a Honey-Boo-Boo Child?

I guess I get my energy from what I eat.  I like pretty much everything.  Carrots and sweet potatoes are my favorite, but I like spinach and squash and peas and pears and peaches and applesauce and beans- string AND legume... I eat all the different kinds of meats, too.  Beef and chicken and turkey and salmon and white fishes.  You know, I've even had luau food!  Mommy made some pork in the crockpot, and made it taste like it'd been cooked in a fire-pit, and then we had pineapple and poi with it!  I had it mixed right up, all together, and I really liked it!  I want to go to a real luau in the State of Hawaii someday!

So that's what I eat, to get me my energy.  No special thing.  I just make sure I get enough protein, and a variety of fruits and vegetables, and enough fiber.  Maybe I'm so happy, because I get lots of fiber.  Big people, do not underestimate that one!

As for being so happy all the time, well, I'm just like everybody else, really.  I get in moods sometimes.  I get discouraged.  But then, I get thinking about where I am in the world, and I look around.  I live in a really, really nice town.  It isn't big at all, but when anybody needs anything, people are there for each other.  It's safe here!  I have a nice comfortable place to sleep every night.  I never have to worry if I get to eat at my next meal, let alone if it's going to be good food.  I don't have to worry about dingoes eating me!  That ought to be enough to put a smile on anybody's face!  I have a best friend Rozzie.  I have nice toys to play with.  Some of them make noise, and some of them don't.  I get to wear nice clothes.  I don't have to wear raggedy leaves or dishrags.  I have nice clothes.

I'll pass on the Go Go Juice, but I'll have some milk instead, please!

And someday, I'm going to get to go to school and be whatever I want to be when I grow up.  I've heard on the news that in some spots in the world, little kids are too busy just surviving to get to go to school, and in other spots in the world, little girls aren't allowed school.  I know things aren't perfect, but at least I'm going to get to learn how to read and write and make numbers do magical things. 

And I believe in magic.  That makes me happy.  Not the kind of magic you're thinking I'm thinking of.  I believe in the magic that makes the world go around, that makes it get all light in my bedroom when it's time to wake up, and the magic that turns the leaves from green to red, and lets me feel Rozzie's soft fur and hear her bark and talk to me. 

I don't know what else to call it, so to me, it's magic, and that's all right.

I guess that's that, Friends!  I'm so happy, because I don't have a real reason to be sad.  I have my moments, just like anybody does, but in the end, I think I'm really lucky to be me, and to be where I am, and to have all my nice friends, just like you!  So I hope that if you ever get sad, Friends, you remember all the nice things you get to have and eat and see, too.  And always remember, Zoe loves you!  Muah!