Zoey's new mantra...Sleep is for the weak

We're convinced that Zo is the Viet Cong of infants. She's one with the night, and sneaky. She's a lot less dangerous, I suppose, but no less skilled at outlasting her opponent.

After an awesome day of sun and what should have been tiring activities Zoey wasn't all that tired. Well, she was indeed tired, le tired in fact, but there was no way she was going to go to sleep. We tricked her into a nap late in the day (Mom had to crash out with her on a blanket outside) but then we watched her bedtime slip away with the sun. She was happy just to hang out with Mom and Dad while we ate dinner and prepared to settle in for a quiet fire on the beach...a quiet fire that didn't include the Viet kid.


Zoey does her weak version of high maintenance on the picnic table with Mom.

So while we enjoyed some killer turkey burgers with some Pumphouse Ale and a stellar view (can we sound any more gastronomically hipster?) the Zed was doing her best to distract us (not an easy task when you've got the wicked pissah combo of Lays Sweet Chili chips alongside of freshly grilled turkey seasoned with Clamato Caesar Rimmer...Yikes, get on that!) She was mostly a kid with perfect table manners and a crapload of charmisma...that's the babyfied version of charisma...it's like charisma but doused in sweet, silly baby goodness. Zoey is smart enough to know that if she's going to stay up late she's going to be a perfect angel while doing it so no one has any good reason to send her packin'. She's going to be fun and bursting with smiles and giggles and then no one on the planet can send her to bed. See, the Viet Kid strikes again.


Watch how fun I can be while distracting my unsuspecting parents into a trance of love.

It was well past 8 pm when she even started to show signs of weakening, by then Dad was far less observant than he could have been thanks to two or three Pump House stress looseners, and Mom was tired of trying to wait her out. As usual, Zoey got to that place where everyone needed her to go almost without any help. There's not much use in forcing things on a 5 month old...oh, we try 'cause it's important that we do but in the end we know which battles are worth fighting and which aren't. It's also important to know your enemy, they say, and it's wise not to mess with the Viet kid in her clovers, snails, kangaroos, and cats, swans, butterflies, deer, rabbits, and bird covered pajamas. You'll lose.