Your Weekly Zoey: Somebody Get Me A Delorean Edition

Oh my goodness. This kid. She’s just growing up so dang fast! Both of them really, but man, the things Zoey can do now.

She can hook the snaps on her overalls, people. All by herself. In fact, she can pretty much fully dress herself with minimal help from me. I’m just there for zippers, buttons and motivation, mainly.

She makes up her own songs. Then she closes her eyes, lifts her arms and spins in circles to “dance” to the music.

She fluctuates constantly among whether she is “a big girl” (only it sounds like “big squirrel” when she says it), a “baby Zoey” or a mermaid. Lately mermaid gets picked the most. Usually with a purple tail.

She can recite entire books, word for word. Many books. Most recently is the Very Busy Spider by Eric Carle.

She knows the whole alphabet and can spell and “read” (i.e. recognize) her name and the words “mom” and “dad.”

She draws actual pictures: snowmen with hats and smiley faces and arms and legs.

Babyhood is so far in the past it sometimes feels like a lifetime ago, instead of less than eighteen months. In so many ways she is shoving toddlerhood behind her as well, and rapidly hurdling toward childhood.

She doesn’t even smell like a baby or toddler anymore. Even when I use the same baby shampoo and soap we’ve been using for so long on her, she doesn’t smell the same. Now she smells like sweat and food and playdoh and, well, like a kid. A big kid.

Everyone tells you it will go fast. They say “before you know it, she’ll be driving and dating.” What they don’t tell you is how you’ll feel when it hits you just how fast it all is going. Seven months from now I’ll have a one year old and a THREE year old. THREE. YEARS. Maybe the reason they don’t tell you how it feels is because it’s so indescribable. It’s pride and fear and joy and anxiety and nostalgia and love, oh so much love, all at once. In an intensity that could make the sun look dim in comparison. And it’s every single day. And it’s amazing.

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