Deftly swinging the laughing child onto the change table and quickly removing the odious diaper from existence, she blows a raspberry on her daughter's round little tummy as she giggles and squeals. Brushing some of her bright, fuschia hair out of her eyes, Zoey breaks into a dopey smile. She looks just like her moms. A round, heart-shaped face with Rumi's delicate lips and gold-flecked eyes. Eyes that narrow into an exact twin of Mira's own beneath a shock of pink, wavy hair. Zoey picks her up and tosses her into the air, before pulling the laughing child close as she moves across the nursery to dig out some clothes from the dresser. 'Aaba?' Ji-a looks up at her as she tips her head. Tugging on Zoey's shirt as if in a question. She presses a kiss onto her head before stashing her back in the crib in some modicum of containment before she's unleashed onto the rest of the house. At ten months she can easily pull herself up on the railing - Celine has promised it will only be a few weeks before she's escaping the crib entirely, just like Rumi did when she was small.