Sometimes our life is like "Seinfeld" -- A show about nothing

So I felt like I should do an update, but I have nothing to say. I could write about her new love for waffles, but waffles aren't that exciting. There are no new teeth, there's no walking, and no first words have been uttered. Some days, we just go about our routine. As much as we our blessed by Zoe and as much as observing her daily miraculous milestones is like watching brushstrokes on her soul, the reality is that sometimes it's just plain boring. That's right, I said it; I went there. The fact of the matter is that she isn't really a great conversationalist. She gets easily amused by little things, but frankly pulling out all the toys in her toy basket doesn't offer me the same stimulation. And trust me, I like bedroom door peek-a-boo as much as the next guy, but can she really believe I am that surprised to see her every time? So I find myself with nothing to say. I guess I should really be happy, I mean there are many "exciting" things of which I am blissfully unaware. I'm sure there are many people with a house full of kids who would, on occasion, gladly trade my boring for their "exciting." Still, there are some days I long for an after-work drink with friends or a night out to dinner that doesn't take place before 6pm and that doesn't involve the phrase "did you bring the cheerios". I would occasionally like to meet up with a friend without concern for nap times (hers, not mine) or schedule a haircut without the planets being aligned. I'd like to not have a song involving colors stuck in my head during a crucial meeting with a client. But then, after a few boring hours in the late afternoon and into the evening, she goes to sleep. We sit in her chair in her bedroom a she snuggles next to me with a bottle and I realize, if this is boring sign me up. No after-work martini is worth giving up big, wet, sloppy baby kisses. I'll carry Cheerios to every meal if it meant I get to watch her squeal in the morning when I get her up. And, let's be honest, who is better afternoon company, nap time or otherwise, then Zoe? So I get to take back everything I wrote. Why? Because I'm the mother and I said so.

"Thank You" - Sadie 'The Dog' Fuller

I will not move the dog bowl off the floor. That's right, I'm taking a stance; laying down the law if you will. Sadie, while loved, is not welcomed to hop up on a chair and join us at the table for dinner. She has no opposable thumbs so she can not use the silverware. Her table manners are atrocious and she gets hair everywhere so her food and water must stay on the ground. She is under no directive to eat her chow at any set time so it frequently sits in the bowl all day. What is the point of this rambling about obvious canine dietary habits you may ask yourself. Well, we are now practicing "discipline". Yes, the word discipline is put in quotes to illustrate just how loosely I am meaning it. Frankly, it has become a game and I am the only one playing; so the question you need to ask yourself is if I am the only one playing, how can I be losing? Indulge me by taking a peek into life in the Fuller house.

5:00 p.m. - Zoe wakes from her nap squealing and laughing. I place her on the floor.
5:10 p.m. - She happily plays with anything that I did not purchase specifically for her. Her expensive Leap Frog toys languish in the corner, probably laughing at the poor remote control.
5:25 p.m. - Like a bullet out of gun, Zoe beelines across the kitchen to the dog food bowl (she is quicker than you might think).
5:25:30 p.m. - "I will not move the dog food bowl, I will not move the dog food bowl."
5:26 p.m. - I give Zoe a stern "No!"
5:26:30 p.m. - Zoe hysterically laughs. "nnnnnaaaa"
5:27 p.m. - Zoe is placed far from the dog food bowl and is now playing with the door. All Leapforg items are sleeping.
5:28 p.m. - Zoe makes another run for it as I unload the dishwasher. I wonder to myself how people do this with more than one.
5:28:30 p.m. - "Zoe, No!"
5:29 p.m. - Laughter fills the room
5:30 p.m. - Sadie begs for a treat with no appreciation for the lengths I am going to protect her actual dinner.
5:31 p.m. - Zoe is playing with the magazines. Leapfrog products have borrowed the keys to the car and have gone out for a spin.
5:35 p.m. - I am paying bills and like a flash she is back, heading for the dog food bowl. I wonder, out loud this time, how people do this with more than one.
5:35:30 p.m. - She stops just short of the bowl and smiles at me, gets back into crawling position and continues on.
5:35 p.m. - "Zoe, No!"
5:36 p.m. - Now Zoe and Sadie are both laughing.
5:37 p.m. - I call a friend with multiple kids and asks how she does it.
"Why don't you just move the dog food bowl?"
5:40 p.m. - The Leapfrog toys come home.

We had her nine-month appointment today; Zoe is a whopping 20lbs and 28 inches! Everything looks great and her hair is getting better.