She don't need no stinkin' nap

Zozer has decided that nap time, at home at least, is not a time for napping, but instead a time of exploration and song. The last few weekends she's been more apt to engage in activity than slumber. Here's a summary of her nap-time exploits.

A few weekends ago, she "discovered" the baby monitor. She's known about it for quite some time, and likes to stand in our room and scream loud enough for the speaker in her room to pick it up and transmit it to the receiver in our room. The red bars bounce and she laughs with delight. That's been going on for quite some time. A few weeks ago, though, she put two and two together and determined that the monitor could, in essence, be used to summon her parents.

She was in her crib, most definitely not sleeping. Songs interspersed with dialogue (one-sided, although perhaps she can hear Hoot talking back), that sort of thing. I like listening on the monitor because it's a way to peek into her brain. So I was in our bedroom, listening, and then suddenly I heard this:

"Oh, I'll just get the baby monitor."
Static
"Helloooooo? Helloooooooo! HELLOOOOOOOO!"
Static
"I like the baby monitor"
Static
"HELLOOOOOOOOO!"

I ran to get M so he could listen, too, and when we went in later to get her up she pointed to the monitor, now in a different position on the dresser, and said, "I found a spot for it."

Zoe has also figured out how to open the wooden shutters that cover our windows. We recently moved her crib to free up space in her room, and now the crib is near one of her windows. She likes to stand in her crib and open the shutters, and peer out into the world. Normally she opens them and begins an audio catalog of what she sees: "Birds, squirrels, trees and flowers! Oh, and a house, cars, playground! A lawnmower! A fence!" While this is amusing, it's nothing compared to what she saw last Saturday.

Once again, she was in her room and I was in ours, listening on the monitor (now strategically positioned by M so as not to allow her to use it as a one-way walkie-talkie). I heard the shutters creak open and the catalog begin. Then I heard this:

"Hey, I see someone! It's Gene! Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi! Hello! Do you see me? Gene! Hi! Do you see me?" I looked out my window. He didn't see her, or hear her ('cause her window was closed, natch), but that didn't stop her from trying. I told M, "It's only a matter of time until she figures out to knock on the window." Within minutes, the knocking started. By then Gene had finished up in the yard and went inside, so he never did get to see an adorable face peering out the bottom corner of a window in the house next door.

And people wonder why we haven't moved her to a big-girl bed yet. She'd be out visiting the neighbors instead of sleeping.