Zoe got another new bug from Great Uncle Ron and Great Aunt Pat. She thinks it's pretty neat and likes to carry it around by its antennae. She has just learned how to say "Thank you!" which Great Uncle Ron heard over the phone a couple days ago (that was the first time I'd ever heard her say it, too).
Incidentally, we have been working on manners. Last week I entered a store with her right after she had been sucking down milk in the car. We no sooner got inside the door of this store and were greeted by a salesperson when Zoe horked out a big ol' belch sounding much like a grown man who had just downed a few Budweisers. She then proudly and matter-of-factly stated "Burp!" I cringed inside, wondering who she was learning this stuff from. Then I told her whenever she burps, she needs to say "Excuse Me!" What follwed was a long and repetitious string of babbling with a few discernable words here and there such as "...burp...scu'me...burp...scu'me...." Sure enough, later that evening after she burped she followed it proudly with, "Scu'me."
Now she's also grasped "Thank you!" and frequently follows it by telling herself "You're welcome!"
A couple months ago I had had my fill of the frustrated toddler whining whenever Zoe had trouble doing something by herself. I began teaching her not to whine and just say "Help, Please." Now she almost always says this instead of whinig or throwing a little fit. What really gets me is when she wants something like her milk or juice out of the fridge and I don't respond quickly enough. She pauses and looks right at me before sweetly saying "Please!" Who can refuse that?
Our current delimma is how to deal with Zoe's habit of proudly stating "Toot!" whenever she passes gas. I'm afraid that her daddy and I have unintentionally influenced this habit. When she was a newborn and we were the typical giddy new parents, thinking everything she did was so totally cute and precious (including filling her pants and passing gas) we would say "toot!" to her when she passed gas. It always made her grin or giggle. I never understood this strange phenomenon among new parents who thought that these bodily functions of their babies were just so precious. Yet, there I was, a new parent annoying the heck out of our childless counterparts who didn't share our sentiments about our daughter's poopy diapers. Granted, the habit of poudly announcing the passing of gas is a practice that many grown men in our culture continue throughout their lives, never feeling the need to change. However, even if my daughter were granted the same social "overlooking" as is too often granted to certain beer swirling, belly scratching grown men, I definitey do not want my daughter learning to belch and fart like the best of them.