Show Me the Monies!

So what was up with the pet store, Big People?

Hiya, Friends!

On a recent trip to the Arnot Mall, I told Mommy and Daddy that I wanted to see the monies, and they said I could.  This was exciting stuff for me.  I cannot stress enough how exciting, Friends!

Well, they parked up by Sears, and Mommy said something about how I needed changed, blah, blah, blah, so into the ladies' room I went, the whole time telling her I was ready to see the monies.  She said that's where we were going next.

Except that isn't where we were going next.  I got sidetracked.  They had a Bowflex in the exercise shop in the Sears, and I wanted to try it out, along with the treadmill and a coupla exercise bikes.  Then I remembered myself.

"I wanna go see the monies!" I said to Mommy and Daddy.

"Okay!" they said, and we walked through the Sears store. 

Mommy tried to distract me with a stop at some pretty dresses with sparkles on them.  She said something about Easter.  I'm not interested in dry-clean only, Toots.  I'm an active gal, and I like to look pretty but also be washable, so I can PLAY, and I expect nothing less from my Easter dress.  So I said I'd take a pasaroo on Easter apparel from Sears, and could we PLEASE go visit the monies?!

We left the Sears, walked past Auntie Anne's and the tattoo parlor.  A tattoo parlor in the mall kinda makes me go 'hmmmmm?' but that's probably a topic of inquiry best saved for another day.  I still haven't wrapped my head around it enough to formulate anything more coherent than a 'what?'

We walked to the end of that mall hall, and I found myself at the pet shop, where they have a whole buncha bunnies.

What?

Right here's where I wanna be!

So I played along.  I stood at the cage where the bunnies were playing, and said "Bunnies!" and Mommy and Daddy thought this was where I wanted to go.  Mommy asked me why I wasn't more excited about the bunnies, and I just shrugged and wandered over to the display of grooming tools.  Rozzie likes me to keep an eye on new grooming tools I see when we're out and about, so I can give her a warning on what might be turning up at the house, so she and I can form a good game plan for making sure those grooming tools disappear.

"Well, I guess we're ready to go?" Daddy said to me, after a few minutes of me not looking at the bunnies.

"Weird," Mommy said as I led them down the big mall hall.  "All we heard about the whole trip was that she wanted to see the bunnies, and she just snubbed them."

"Who understands two-year-olds?" Daddy said.

I know who obviously DOESN'T understand two-year-olds, Friends.  My two Big People.  That's who.

We walked down the Sears spur of the mall, and past Burlington Coat Factory and the Cookie place. 

Something I've noticed about that cookie place is how Mommy never will stop there, because she says she can make better chocolate chip cookies than the Great American Cookie Company can... and yet she never does.  Mommy, if you really CAN bake great cookies, I wanna taste-test!  Put your home-baked cookies where my mouth is!  Otherwise, let me stop and order one of those big cookies for my very own!  They smell delicious!

I guess we were on our way to the Friendly's, but I didn't really care.  I saw where I wanted to go just as soon as we got past the watch kiosk.  Right there in the middle of the mall, in glorious chlorinated and sparkling glory, were the monies I'd wanted to see all along. 

You see, there's this beautiful fountain right there, and people throw change into that fountain.  This fascinates me!  I've mentioned that I'd like to have a fountain like this of my very own, for people to toss their unwanted change into.  I'd be happy to adopt their pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters!  So this fountain in the mall really is a must-see, every time I go.  I like to wave at all those monies.  I like to tell it I think it's doin' a great job, being sparkly and lovely.  I like to see if there's lots, or if they've just recently emptied out the fountain. 

Hiya, Monies!

That's what I wanted to see that day, Friends.  The monies.  But Mommy and Daddy thought I wanted to see the bunnies.  And like I said, the bunnies were cute and all, but I'm pretty sure bunnies wouldn't be too popular with Rozzie.  She seems to like being the only fuzzy in our house. 

I guess if you're wondering what I'd do with all the monies in my fountain like the one in the mall, I'd probably buy hearing testing for Mommy and Daddy, to make sure they can hear their Ms from their Bs.  Monies, Bunnies... They sound alike, but they're different concepts.  At the very least, I'd buy 'em a book for how to understand their two-year-old.  I mean, really, Friends.

At least YOU understand me!  I love the heck right out of you for that, Friends!  I really do! 

I'll be seein' you tomorrow, mmmmkay?  Muah!

Whatchya Doin' Wednesday

Hiya, Friends!  Well, it's Wednesday all over again.  Since Ask Wednesday's over for another year, and it didn't really catch on all that well this year, anyway, I've decided that today is "Whatchya Doin' Wednesday!"  So... Whatchya doin' today, Friends?  Whatchya wanna do today? 

Oh, I'm hopin' to do a little jugglin'.  You know, the usual.

Me?  Well, I've taken up juggling.  The idea of juggling, anyway.  Not bowling pins or torches or chainsaws.  Not yet.  For now, I'm workin' on jugglin' my Koosh balls.

Actually, I don't "juggle" them as much as I throw them around and hope to high heaven that Rozzie doesn't put them in her mouth.  I love Rozzie to pieces, but she's slobbery, and could you imagine trying to wash the slobber off'n' a Koosh ball? 

Blech.  Gross, I know.  Sorry.  But that's the battle I fight here, daily.

So anyway, Koosh balls are the perfect thing for me to learn to sort of juggle with, Friends.  They're nicey soft and easy to catch.  Mommy says that with the way I throw a ball and run and catch, I'm probably gonna be a cheerleader when it's time for me to take up the sports.  But I'd really like to pursue competitive juggling.

Someday, I'd like to be a competitive juggler.

Is that even a thing?  You'd think it would be.  There's competitive tumbling, competitive fire-eating, competitive baton-twirling.  You'd think if you can compete, doing all those things, it'd be a no-brainer to have competitive juggling. 

People could compete based on the number of things they juggle, and the difficulty of which it is to juggle such a something that they chose.  For instance, juggling Koosh balls isn't as difficult as juggling chairs would be.  I would think that chairs and other pieces of furniture would be really difficult things to juggle, because they don't have much give. 

And they're also big and heavy.

But think of it, Friends.  Juggling could be like bobsledding.  You know.  There's a category of bobsleds that's a one-person bobsled, and then there's two-person and four-person bobsleds, too.  Competitive Juggling could be the same way.  You could have your individual jugglers, and then have teams of jugglers juggling the same items, tossing things to one another and catching them and such.

Friend, catch!  I wantchya to be on my competitive juggling team!

Sometimes, having more people around makes a job easier to do, but I think the opposite's true of juggling.  That's what makes it a really fascinating sport.  You see, you know what you're going to do, how to time the catch and release of your items you're juggling, but the real art of it comes down to being in-tune with your teammates, so you catch when they release and vicey-versa. 

I think I could really be onto something here.  I think people would really enjoy the spectacle of team-juggling.  Especially if a team of jugglers juggled another team, like maybe a peewee hockey team!  Now that would be some interesting stuff, right there!

So that's what I'm doin' this Whatchya Doin' Wednesday, Friends.  I'm just tryin' to start small, start simple, learn how to catch one Koosh ball as I release another.  I really think I'm on my way to becoming a great competitive juggler. 

I hope you're findin' something as fascinating to do, too, Friends!  I love ya lots, and I'll see ya tomorrow!  Muah!

Consider the Butterfly

I love butterflies!

Hiya, Friends!  How's your week going?  I know it's only Tuesday, so it's a little hard to tell, but it's still easy enough to get a gauge on how the week's feeling like it's shaping up for ya.  And if it feels like it's takin' a left turn, it's still early enough to whip around the block and get back on track for a great week, don't you think?

Every day is a new chance to have a great day!

I think about that a lot, Friends, about the transformative power of goin' to bed at night and wakin' up in the morning.

That's why I have a butterfly theme in my bedroom.  My room's been all about butterflies ever since I can remember.  When I first came home from the hospital, I had this mobile I could watch, hanging over my crib, and it had butterflies on it.  My sheets and comforter have butterflies on them.  I have a rug that's a purple butterfly-shaped rug.

Butterflies are very important to me.

You see, butterflies don't start life out as butterflies.  You know this, Big People, and so do I.  They start out as caterpillars.  Little worm-lookin' things that can't fly.  Some caterpillars are cute enough.  I think we say that, because caterpillars are baby butterflies, and ya kinda hafta say babies are cute, even when you're like 'whaaaaaaaaaaaat?'  You still hafta smile and say the baby's cute.  Because all babies are cute. 

Moving right along.  We'll just agree that some caterpillars are actually cute, and some caterpillars are cute because they're caterpillars.

Butterflies, though.  Butterflies are beautiful.  Butterflies have gossamer wings, Friends.  And seein' one just makes your spirits lift a little bit. 

Thing of it is, I'm not so sure that while that 'Bless-your-heart Cute' caterpillar always knows it's gonna grow up to be a butterfly.  You know what I'm sayin', Friends?  I think it thinks it might stay a caterpillar forever.  It gets used to crawling around on the leaves, seeing the world from down on the ground.  It isn't a bad life, especially if that's all you know.  I mean, you might yearn for more and wish for more, but not be all that discontent in your present circumstances, if they're all you've ever known, and if you're not all that sure how to go about changing them.

And then that little caterpillar gets a switch flipped in it.  Nature has a way of doing things like that.  Just coming along, flipping that switch, and suddenly the same-old, same-old, but comfortable thing gets all shooken up.  From the caterpillar's point of view, it's easy to feel like the whole world is coming to an end.

Have ya ever seen a really weird-lookin' baby?

Well, wouldn't it?  Here you've been, going around one way your whole life, and the next day, you're crawling into a cocoon.  You don't know why you go in there, if you're a caterpillar.  You just know you're going in there.  It's what you do.  So you say good-bye to all your little caterpillar friends.  You bid farewell to the ladybugs and spiders and honeybees and crawl into that cocoon. 

I wonder if caterpillars cry.  I think I would, right then.  I mean, things look pretty grim.  They're crawling into this thing and they don't know why.  It's gonna be lights out soon!

Imagine the despair!

And they go to sleep for a little while. A coupla weeks.  Not very long to us, but a long time for the caterpillar.  And then finally, finally, finally, Nature comes along again and flips another switch, and up wakes that caterpillar, except something's different now, and it stretches and finds out it has WINGS!  GOSSAMER WINGS!  WOW! 

Here that little caterpillar thought that everything was over for it, and it went to bed, closed its eyes, and when it woke up, it was a BUTTERFLY!  I can only imagine what it must feel like for that new butterfly to see the light shining through its wings for the first time!  I bet it's something!

We can learn a lot from caterpillars'n'butterflies!

For us people, we don't have that dramatic a transformation in such a short amount of time, generally.  Usually, our changes are more gradual.  We change a little bit every day.  But one thing we get to do every single day is turn out the lights, crawl into a nicey warm bed, and go to sleep.  Sometimes, I sure do feel like a caterpillar when I got go bed at night.  Sometimes at bedtime, things around me seem pretty grim.  I DO cry.  I kick and scream and try to bargain with Mommy and Daddy to let me stay up just a little longer, and they still put me in my toddler bed, cover me up, give me kisses, and tell me they'll see me in the morning, and everything will look better to me then.  I'll feel better in the morning.

I try to fight that every single night, Friends.  But I do get to sleep, and then when I wake up in the morning and see the light shining through my curtains in my room like light shining through butterfly-wings, everything DOES seem better.  I DO feel like a butterfly.

That's why butterflies are so important to me, Friends.  That's why they're the first things I see in the morning and the last things I see at night.  They inspire me.  They remind me that no matter what happened today, tomorrow's a new day.

I love ya lots, Friends!  I'll see you tomorrow!  Muah!

Where's My Missing Hour?

I feel like something's missing, Friends!

Hiya, Friends!  Well, it's Monday all over again, isn't it?  And it's the Monday after a weekend that got shortened by a whole hour on accounta the Time Change.  Yes, I'm still talking about that.  Darned "Spring Ahead," anyway!

I realize that this all evens itself out when we set the clocks back the hour again to Standard Time in the fall.  And I realize that's too far away to think about right now.  We've got a lotta Springtime and Summertime, and even some Falltime to get through before we get back that hour we lost this weekend, so what I'd like is some other compensation for my missing hour.

No, not money.  That'd be ridiculous.  Giving me money for an hour that's just up and gone in the interest of Daylight Saving Time.  But I'm thinking something that'd ease the pain of missin' out on a whole hour of my weekend.

You know what, Friends?  You know what the biggest injustice of this whole "Spring Forward" thing is to me?  Aunt Colleen and Uncle Lorentz were here this weekend, and I had to go home an hour early from seein' them on Saturday night, so we wouldn't all be tired on Sunday. 

A whole hour of my weekend's gone- just 'poof!' like that!

Tell me, Pals: when you're in Saturday night, do you really give a rip about bein' tired on Sunday?  I sure don't!  I say lemme stay in Saturday night for as long as I want, and I'll deal with bein' tired on Sunday... ON SUNDAY!  But I guess it wasn't all about me and makin' me miss out on an extra hour with Aunt Colleen and Uncle Lorentz.  They had to drive yesterday, and I don't want them to be tired out on their drive.  I guess what I really want is to Spring Forward on a weekend when Aunt Colleen and Uncle Lorentz aren't here. 

Oh, well.  What's done is done.  No sensa gripin' about it now.  I guess.

Gripin' about it isn't really makin' me feel any better about this arrangement. It isn't.  Is it makin' me feel any worse?  I'm not sure.  I don't know.  I think it's silly.  We know it's gonna get darker in the winter, and lighter in the spring.  Why do we hafta try manipulatin' the whole TIME to try to compensate with that?  Can't we just learn to live with it?  We can't control the seasons.  We can't really control time.  Don'tchya feel like pattin' us on the heads and sayin' "Silly humans!"

Silly humans!

I thinka Root Beer Float would make up for my lost weekend hour!

Back to my original thing, though.  I'd like something in return for my lost hour from the weekend, and I don't mean waitin' until the fall to turn the clocks back and get that hour back.  I want something right now.  And you know what I think would be just the ticket?  You know what I think would be just enough to ease the sting of losin' an hour of the weekend?

A Root Beer Float.  A nicey tall, foamy, sweet, delicious Root Beer Float, with a Crazy straw, and a long spoon.  And the bottle of root beer near by, so I could keep pourin' it on the ice cream as I sip it off.  That would help make up for losing that hour, and also it would help make up for the fact that today's Monday.

There, Friends.  Your pal Zoe has figured it out.  Go have a Root Beer Float today.  It'll make ya feel all kindsa better.  I love ya lots!  See ya tomorrow!  Muah!

Thirty

What a day it is, Friends!

Hoo, boy, Friends!  Has the Time Change knocked you on your hiney-butt?  It's kind of knocked me on my hiney-butt!  Tell me again why we do this twice a year.  Especially this "springin' forward" business.  It's like jetlag without gettin' to go anywhere!

But that's not what I wanna talk about today, Friends.  It isn't.  What I wanna talk about today is that I'm Thirty Months Old today.

Thirty's one of those numbers, isn't it, Friends?  It's one of those numbers that makes ya realize that you've reached some milestone.

Lotsa important things come in increments of thirty, when you really think about it.  Situational comedies usually come in thirty-minute doses.  My favorite Daniel Tiger program is thirty-minutes long. 

Thirty is a big number.  If ya work somewhere for thirty years, you usually get a gold watch.  My favorite hockey goaltender usedta wear the number 30.

People tend to lose their minds a little bit for a little while when they turn thirty years old.  They start actin' weird for a little while, until they get a grip on themselves again.

I'm thirty months old!

Well, I can sorta understand today.  I'm thirty months old.  Two and a half years.  I thought my world was rocked, once I made it to the double-digit months.  But Thirty Months Old, well...

Wouldja believe some guy the other night had the NERVE to say he thought I was a FOUR YEAR OLD?!  He said I looked like a FOUR YEAR OLD to him.  Asked me if I was gonna be in KINDERGARTEN next year!  Not that there's anything wrong with bein' four.  I mean, I'll be four someday, but not today, Pal!  Jeez!

I'd like to think that he mistook me for an older kid because of my unmistakable air of sophistication.  Maybe it was my command of Big People English that stymied him. 

Maybe I just seem like an old soul. 

Friends, I'm not gonna let it get to me.  Mommy says there's nothin' wrong with ownin' how old you are.  She says in other cultures and in other languages, they don't ask each other how old they are.  They ask each other how many years they have, if they even ask at all. 

"How many years do you have?"  It makes years sound like wonderful little charms on a pretty charm bracelet.  You get a new one for every year you're around.  And in a way, isn't that the way it is? 

I don't looka day over twenty-five months?! You're so sweet!

That's how I'm choosin' to look at havin' thirty months to my name now.  I have thirty little charms on a metaphorical charm bracelet, and they all glitter and twinkle and make me smile when I look back on 'em, Friends. 

I think probably a good policy to adopt, though, moving forward, is not to ask another person how old they are, or even how many years or months they have, in most cases.  People are funny about things like that.  I think it's probably just best to enjoy bein' in their company and not worry about how old they are.  Does it matter all that much most of the time?  I don't think it does.

You know what DOES matter, Friends?  I love the heck right out of ya and I'll be seein' you tomorrow.  We'll all still be all jet-laggy, probably, from the timechange, but I'll be seein' ya!  Muah!

Paintin' with ALL the Colors of the Wind(ow)!

You're not s'posedta draw on the windows with crayons!

Hiya, Friends!  Hey, have I told you about my window-crayons yet?  Well, you know, usually, it's frowned upon to do things like draw with crayons on anything other than paper.  It's hampering to the creative spirit, I know, but anarchy is too messy even for a toddler to want to live in, really, so I respect the rules.

But for Christmas, I got this present that really just blew the lid off'n' everything I thought I knew.  Windows aren't for bein' drawn on with crayons, yet these crayons were made for just sucha purpose. 

Look!  Crayons made for writin' on the windows!

When we got home and Mommy opened 'em up one day after the Holidays, and said I could write on the windows with 'em, I looked around for the cameras.  I thought I was bein' punked.  I thought somebody was tryin' to make a fool out of me, or tryin' to catch me up in a web of doin' something I thought wasn't okay, but was told it was okay, but it turned out it wasn't okay.

I love paintin' with all the colors on the window!

Um, in other words, Friends.  If I wasn't bein' punked, I felt like I was in a trap.

I guess it wasn't a trap. 

You see, Mommy took the top of one of those window-crayons and DREW right the heck on the window! 
And then she handed it to me and told me I could, and I wouldn't get in trouble!

Friends, if you haven't experienced the singular pleasure of drawing on a glass window with crayons, you've gotta try it!  Besides feelin' like you're gettin' away with something you shouldn't be doing, it makes the window look really cool!  Like postmodern stained glass!

Friends, I think you should try something new today.  Try colorin' with all the crayons on the window. It's so much fun!

I love ya, Friends!  I'll see ya tomorrow!  Muah!

New Books

Gettin' new books just gives me a boost!

Hiya, Friends!  How are YOU this Fabulous Friday?  Are things fantastic for you? Maybe they're a little frosty?  It's kinda cold outside, isn't it?

This is the winter that doesn't end. I didn't even realize it that today is the Seventh of March. Why, I remember the first March I marched around the sun on this blue marble.  I remember that on St. Patrick's Day, I wore my little green gingham dress without a long-sleevie underneath.  It was super-warm that day!

And then we got a cold snap and a warm snap and a cold snap.  I remember it SNOWED at the end of April. 

Where was I going with this?  Oh, right!  I was gonna say that I don't think I remember not getting a little taste of Spring by now.  You know, something to get our hopes all up.

So things have been a little crazy around here, with the cold.  Stir-crazy, cabin fever.  We've just been down. 

I feel like a winner when I get new books!

That's why I was so excited to find that I'd received some New Books the other day.  Don't get me wrong.  I love the books that I already have.  I love readin' about the Berenstain Bears goin' to the doctor, or goin' on a picnic.  I love visiting my friend Julius the monkey on his adventures in dreamland and in the wild West.  I get the biggest kick out of that ol' Curious George when he goes to an ice cream shop and when he disrupts the ski competition. 

But readin' the same things over and over gets a little boring after a while.  Especially when everything's all wintery. 

So I got some new books in a box, and I can't begin to tell ya how excited I was by that.  I can't begin to tell ya, but I'll try!

Here's to new adventures for all of us, Friends!

When I get new books, I feel like I've won a really cool all-expenses-paid trip to somewhere!  When I get new books, I feel like I've got a ticket for an adventure to go on!  It makes my tummy feel like it's all whipped up with fizzy water, and all I can do is jump up and down and say, 'Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!'

I needed to go on some new adventures right about now, Friends.  I don't know about you, but that's just what I needed.  I needed to paint a rainbow with Julius, and I was dying to find out what other kinds of misadventure the Five Little Monkeys would have in something like a tree or a tub. 

I wasn't disappointed, Friensds!  When I need a boost, new books always deliver!  So I'm always glad to see a delivery boxa books I haven't read!  I love ya, Friends!  I'll see you tomorrow!  Muah!