Zoë tales

On Christmas Adam, Andrew decided to run to the movies to watch Frozen II with Zoë, since she hadn't been invited when he took the older three to the new Star Wars movie a few days before. 

I just stay home with the baby. 

It's fine. 

No, really, it is. Movie theaters are kind of fun, I guess, but they also really stress me out. I'm a little noise sensitive so I usually just sit there wishing they would turn it down. Anyway, Zoë had a blast going out with Daddy all by herself (and she loved the movie).

Here she is looking altogether too grown up:

She has been experimenting with writing lately and will write random little stories (or make herself long worksheets of math problems) for quite a long time without getting bored of it. Here's a little sample of her writing that I found the other day:

It says:

ALiX iS LUViNG (not sure about the hF)
ZOË IS LOViNG
MOM iS LOVING
DAD iS LOViNG
ALIX AND ZOË

One day we were all working at projects in the basement when I noticed she was entertaining herself by writing on the whiteboard. She had written "THE THINGS THAT DAD DID" but she erased it before I could grab the camera. I thought it was so sweet because our dad has been doing a lot of things around the house lately.

I love that she can't quite figure out Alex's name. That said, it's better than how Benjamin consistently spells Miriam's name, which I'm consistently reminding him is in big, bold letters on the picture of her in the dining room...Meriyum. Always Meriyum.

Which, like, I get. But also...that's not even close. Anyway...I began this post with the goal of sharing three separate tidbits about Zoë (not that you knew that, but I knew that and this post wouldn't feel complete until I get all three points recorded) so I need to get back on track and finish up.

This evening, after a long day of house projects, Andrew and I got all the kids into bed (and then put up a towel rack and a shelf) and then settled on the couch to watch a show together. Zoë, who begged me to put her hair in rags this week, was having trouble getting comfortable enough to sleep (apparently (and obviously because of the rags)) and she made her way down the stairs to check on us much later than she should have still been awake.

I met her in the hallway and picked her up for a snuggle.

"What's up?" I asked. "Besides you."

"Well, I just have a question," she told me.

"What's that?"

"Well...it's just...you guys are, like, still doing family things together but, like, all of the kids are in bed. We're not doing family things. We're all, like, in bed, just going to sleep."

"Yes," I nodded. I knew that because I had put them all there. And it had been like herding cats. It involved bathing three of them, brushing multiple sets of teeth, wrangling uncooperative souls into pyjamas, snuggling on the big chair for stories, corralling them for scripture study, reading a chapter from our bedtime book (because somehow we have two story times now; currently we're reading The Wizard of Oz), coaxing them to say their bedtime prayers, lullabies and back scratches and...yes. They were in bed. I deserved this moment.

"So, I just want to know why you're doing family things without all of us? Because, like, family things, Mom."

Our assertive advocate for children's rights levied some pretty nefarious charges against us, that's for sure!

"By family things do you mean "watching a show?" Because sometimes we do that as a family and sometimes that's something Mommy and Daddy do alone...together," I explained.

"Oh," she said.

"So, it's not really family time right now," I continued. "It's Mommy and Daddy time. So you need to head back up to bed."

"Fine, just...no family things without me, okay?" she asked.

"Okay," I promised.

She's always been a little worried about ever missing out on anything (thus the reason she'd stay up all night screaming for all those many long colicky months (years?)). I guess old habits die hard.