Give Peace a Chance

We never went on spring break this year. Instead we stayed home, living with a 24/7 protester. And not just any protester. A moody, 11-month-old protester who is constantly changing her stance on all issues.

Given Cheerios instead of Goldfish? Fight the power!

Time to go in the car seat? Hell no, she won't go!

Is dada about to change her diaper? Don't let the man beat her down!

Is the dog looking at her? Did a dust mote land on her big toe?

Any and all issues have the potential to spark radical protest.

I am so not a fan.

One of the most effective things about Zoey's protests is that she is constantly adapting her techniques. One minute she'll be stiff as a board, and the next she's totally limp. Civil disobedience often works well for her as it tires us out and breaks our already-fragile spirits. So far she has won battles over pants, nap time, eating paper and playing with the dog bowl. And that was just today.

Inertia and gravity are on her side. So far, weight and size are on ours. I am no longer trying to lose weight with all my running; I've got to maintain my current weight so I don't lose the only advantage I have over Zoey. Demetri is also trying to bulk up with the help of Ben & Jerry's and extra carbs at dinner.

Another effective thing about Zoey's protest strategy is that she will not hesitate to cross the line from non-violence to getting the launch codes for the missiles. And you never know when it is going to happen. Kicking and biting are nothing. When she wants to employ deadly force she uses her baby velociraptor claws. She'll stick her fingers up noses and in ears, or she'll slice them across the jugular. Blood has been shed. Demetri and I are thankful we still posses sight and hearing.

Zoey will also not hesitate to use bodily fluids against us. Pee, poop and her latest secret weapon, SNOT (Super Nasty Ooey Things). She will smear snot all over her face and hair in an effort to repel us. She smears snot on our clothes, face and hands when we attempt to pick her up. She has even slimed the dog. Some of her snot even has a cloaking device — an area will seem clear and then suddenly you are stuck on a snotsicle while two snot bombs have been launched and are locked on to your position.

After Zoey goes to bed at night Demetri and I often huddle together in the darkness and light a single candle. Demetri strums his guitar, and we sing “Kumbaya.” If we're feeling hopeful, we sing the more jaunty “Give Peace a Chance.” Then we cry ourselves to sleep. In the next room Zoey dreams of pretty ponies, goldfish crackers and having her feet tickled by the dog knowing that she will wake up to two parents who are happy to see her, snot and all.

Joslyne is a transplant to Nashville from New England.  She loves Southern biscuits, Southern hospitality, but not the Southern heat. You can read more of her writing on her blog at http://zozosmom.blogspot.com/.