I have talked before about having my hands full with Zoë.  She is amazing, funny, loving, stubborn, opinionated, strong-willed and spirited.  Her spirit is amazingly joyful.  She is going to do great things.  She is a performer and I often joke that she is going to dance her way through college on a stage of some sort–I hope the broadway sort, but not having to pay for college either way would be great.  I joke (a little).  Zoë loves to put on “shows.”  She is always telling us to get ready for her show.  It’s cute–although Noah has much more natural dancing ability that Zoë.  I know he got all the good stuff and Zoë will resent it–awesome hair, natural dancing talent, dimples, and eye-lashes to swoon over.  Ah but Zoë your personality outshines his (wait–can I say that).

Anyway, this morning I was making lunches and coffee when Zoë came into the kitchen in only her underwear (prepping for future stage dancing) and wanted to show me her dance.  It was a modern interpretation of tap-dancing.

I asked “who taught you that?”  the babysitters daughter takes dance and often teaches Zoë.

“No one.”

“Did you make it up yourself?”

“Yes, from my heart.”

Oh just kill me now.  There is no taming this one and why on earth would I want to?