Girl's Best Friend (aka Playdate at Zane's House!)

For about a year now, Zienna has been begging on a near-daily basis to attend school. She's a smart cookie, having mastered colors and shapes earlier than either Zach or Zoë, and she loves doing “homework.” She also sees the playground equipment at Zoë’s school—the “park,” as she calls it—and presumably thinks it comprises the bulk of the students’ curriculum. Throw in that she’s an absolute social butterfly, begging to tag along every time the older Z Kids head out to play with friends, and yeah, this girl is ready for more stimulation than I can offer her. And yet, preschool won't happen for another six months at least.

Good thing Zane's around.

Given that Zienna and Zane joined our family just four months apart, I suppose it was inevitable they'd be pals. They’ve spent countless hours at home together, and from the minute Zienna could crawl—around, over, and often on—Zane, they’ve been best buds. With Zienna starving for companionship and play, I’ve readily come to see Zane as “our" dog, especially since Zach, who begged to adopt him, hardly ever has a thing to do with the poor guy. No, Zienna can't feed Zane or clean up his poop, but she can pet, wrestle and throw a ball for him to fetch, and he seems to enjoy their time together.

But this week, things took a new—and rather odd—turn.

In the past, Zienna has occasionally crawled into Zane's crate, where she’s typically pretended to lock herself inside and then call for me to let her out—Attention-Getting 101. It was a harmless little game, even if I worried a bit about the fecal bacteria and whatnot that no doubt inhabits the floor of the structure. But then, Zienna spends half her life on the floor anyway, and I'll readily admit that ours is far from spotless.

It had been some time since Zienna had been in the crate until yesterday morning when, thoroughly engrossed in tending to my ailing PC, I semi-consciously heard its door slam. And then it got very quiet. And when the quiet continued, the little "better see what she's up to" alarm went off in my head. When I went to investigate, I heard giggling from inside the crate, where Zienna and Zane were sitting side by side, packed rather tightly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

I tried to open the door, but Zienna immediately protested.

"We playing, Daddy," she explained. "Me and Zane like it in here."

Since they looked so contented, I resumed my work and again forgot about them until that alarm went off again and I found they were still "playing"—even though nearly an hour had gone by! By then, Zane was whimpering for escape, tired of the game. I convinced Zienna that Zane needed to go potty, so she let him out. But she didn’t budge for some time. And even after emerging, she returned repeatedly throughout the day, sometimes with Zane, sometimes without. It got to where I hardly even noticed.

This morning, bright and early, I heard the crate door slam shut once again. And there Zienna was, sitting happy as a clam next to Zane, who by this point was flashing me a look of "Yeah, it's sweet and all, but please, HELP ME!" But it was no use. Zienna insisted Zane wanted to be in the crate, and that was that. It's not like she was beating him, so I left him there to suffer for Zienna's happiness.

Zienna's a real character, and I suspect this will pass like the other myriad offbeat behaviors she's exhibited as she's found ways to amuse herself. And if not? Well heck, I've had my eye on her room as an office for some time now. And part of me wonders if she’d even care.

Z Gallery Updates: October 2008 Edition

Where the heck has this year gone? If you have any idea, would you please let me know? I'm having a hard time believing that we'll be celebrating Thanksgiving in just a couple of weeks. Sheesh.

Meanwhile, we've got a new gallery to wrap up October's goings-on around The Hamilton Zone. The Z Kids finished a very successful first quarter of school. And watched delayed Fourth of July fireworks. And played outside with friends as much as possible, knowing cold, wet weather was not far off. But mostly, they counted–daily–the days remaining until the kid version of The Fall Classic, Halloween, arrived. And when it arrived, they loved every minute of it.







To get your fill of The Z Kids, check out the gallery, download the high-resolution zip files, or view the photos on Shutterfly, where you can order prints, too.

But don't gorge yourself. After all, you've gotta leave some room for that ridiculously large meal coming up at the end of the month...

They always want what they can't (or shouldn't) have

As I mentioned last week, Zienna and Zane have quickly become cross-species baby buddies. Clearly fascinated by one another, Zane shows his feelings for Zienna through countless “kisses” which Zienna not only doesn't mind, she encourages. Even before she could crawl, Zienna would reach through her play yard fence, extending her hands for Zane to lick. And now that she can get around, Zienna goes looking for Zane, even approaching his crate and reaching through its bars at times when he’s inside, as if to ask, “Wanna come outside and play?” More kissing ensues.

That Zane is so gentle with Zienna is really surprising. After roughly three and a half months since entering The Hamilton Zone, Zane is still learning his manners. He heels pretty well when it’s just me and him, but he's one excitable puppy who’ll jump at anyone who comes close. Since claws with 30+ pounds behind them and nipping teeth follow, he can be intimidating, good-natured or not. Just ask Zach, who's down half a dozen shirts, victims of Zane's overzealous affection.

During the past week, with non-stop rains reducing the number and duration of our walks, Zane has been even more enegetic than usual, doing periodic windsprints around the great room, pausing every few laps to say "hi" to Zienna. And then, after hosting Kelly's firm's party on Saturday night, we chose not to put Zienna's play yard back up, since we were trusting Zane more and because Zienna gets frustrated by confinement now that she can crawl. Between Zane's physical nature and Zienna's curiosity and mobility, a grand experiment was in the making.

Three days and counting without the protective fence, and all is going well—on most fronts. There’s not so much as a scratch on Zienna. True to what I'd observed to this point, she and Zane really do appear to have a special bond. Yes, Zane still terrorizes Zach (who won't stand up to him) and in the past week has left the back of one of my hands a bloody mess on three separate occasions over the excitement of going for a walk. But when he’s around Zienna, Zane’s demeanor instantly softens, as he nuzzles and threatens her with nothing more than that ever-present tongue.

But that isn't to say that the Little Z Mutual Admiration Society hasn't gotten into its share of mischief. Because it has.

Mid-morning on the first day that Zienna really got proficient at crawling, I was working in the kitchen when I heard a sound emanating from the corner of the breakfast nook. Hmmm, Zane must have decided to finish his breakfast, I thought. Only Zane was locked in his crate since I was in the other room. And Belly wouldn’t dare. Which could mean only one thing. Oops. Fortunately, I reacted quickly enough to fish the kibble out of Zienna's mouth before she choked. So much for her pristine, vegetarian state. But in the end, a lesson was learned and there was no real harm done.

Then on Monday, with Zienna's play yard gone and her toys free and unencumbered, I was again caught off guard when I heard—while Zienna was napping in her room—her electronic Winnie the Pooh toy emitting the digitized sounds of buzzing bees. Lately, Zane's been pretty good about leaving Zienna's toys alone, even when they're sitting right next to his. But I guess the temptation was too great with the fence gone and the bright, plastic pile of loot left unattended for the taking. Shooing him off, I corralled the toys safely into a corner next to my desk so I could watch and protect them.

A few more “grass is greener” encounters ensued, but by yesterday, I'd gotten things more or less back to normal, with Zane's food dish relocated to the laundry room, the door closed, and the Under One crowd back on track as to whose possessions were whose. Or so I thought.

Shortly after lunchtime, seated at my desk and deep in thought over something I desperately needed to complete for Christmas, my parental radar sent an alert indicating that Zienna was no longer viewable by my peripheral vision. Peering over the sofa, I saw her by the fireplace, smiling innocently as she sat playing with a toy. No worries, I thought. But as I sat down, I realized that her toys were all still neatly piled up next to me, and since Zienna has yet to figure out how to crawl with a toy in hand, that meant that...oh, yuck. Yep, she was chewing on a bright, red rubber doggie bone. Yikes.

Bounding across the room, I snatched the bone from Zienna’s hands as I placed her back on “her” side of the room. Then I ran back and scooped up the rest of Zane's toys and, along with the offending bone, threw the lot of them into a pile near his crate. Thinking I’d made the boundaries clear, I returned to my desk, only to find Zane chewing on one of Zienna's favorite rattles. Scolding Zane and anxious to get back to work, I tossed the rattle in the sink, then chased him back to his corner of the room for one last chance before a fast ticket to Crateville, or a quick reconstruction of the play yard fence.

As I sat down, Zane came sauntering around the corner of the sofa with his favorite chew toy—a crazy, UFO-like gold number covered in soft, green nubs (all the more inviting to babies!)—in his mouth. He plopped down a few feet from Zienna, who was banging two of her own playthings together, oblivious to the havoc. This is how it should be, I thought. Peaceful coexistence. Except that within seconds, Zane had jumped up, leaving behind his slobber-soaked treasure, for which Zienna immediately darted. I narrowly beat her to it, but by then, Zane was back with a squirrel-emblazoned cloth Frisbee, which Zienna found equally appealing and for which Zienna quickly grabbed—and at that point, enough was enough. Into the crate went Zane.

Today, we’re experimenting again, because we need to clear this hurdle. Obviously Zienna can't live full time in a play yard, just as Zane can't live full time in a crate. And besides, I realize that as a team, the Poopy Pals mean no harm. The way I'm figuring it, Zienna and Zane aren't misbehaving, they're sharing. Sort of like the Pilgrims and Native Americans, they're dividing territory and exchanging gifts (and things they can put into their mouths). Either that, or they're both smarter than any of us would believe and scheming to drive me batty. And for the record—even if that’s not their intent—they're doing a pretty good job of it!