"Don't Fence Me In"

After watching Clara reach near-hysteria on our recent drive down to Texas after hours of being strapped into her car-seat, over-tired, and refusing to sleep or be distracted with toys, I began realizing how much her distaste for confinement has manifested itself throughout her life.

• It all started in the womb. That child would kick out her legs and lock knees, stretch out her body as much as possible, and press outward on every side as if to make more room. I frequently has bruises from her doing this, none of which have I experienced in my current pregnancy (although I still have 2 months to go).
• After she was born we tried for a couple weeks to swaddle her at sleep times or if she was upset, having been told all babies love this. Finally, logical deduction led us to stop these efforts, after which time Clara began sleeping spread eagle and much more contentedly.
• She's never been one to be happy on long walks her in stroller. As much as I pushed the issue, thinking she would adapt, I ended up putting myself into many stressful situations trying to sing to her, distract her with toys and snacks, or carry her in one arm and push the stroller with the other long enough to get us back home without disturbing the whole neighborhood.
• She has never been easy on car trips.  

And I can't blame her for any of it. Upon thinking about her low-confinement-tolerance, I realized the old Roy Rogers song "Don't Fence Me In" would be fitting for her.

So for anyone who needs a good 'ol song stuck in your head today, here's the link to hear it:

Roy Rogers singing "Don't Fence Me In" (Click 'Skip Ad' on the screen)

That's definitely a reminiscent song for me, and one I heard many times on family road trips growing up. Makes me happy. :)

Clara-isms

As Clara's language is continuing to develop, she's come up with several phrases and "isms" to aid in her communication with us.

While we know exactly what she means, it's quite humorous to see how she twists sounds and joins words to create her go-to phrases.

Clara-isms

• "Take a night night"--anyone who's sleeping for any reason
• "Meekos-songs" --turn on some music!
• "a-das-da-dis-das-JESUS!" --Clara's interpretation of how to read books: babbling with an occasional, excited "Jesus!" thrown in every couple of pages. :)
• "Sockies, horsey, ducky" --Somehow she discovered putting the "y" sound at the end of words for effect.  
• "Coffee" --every drink that mom drinks apparently
• "See-ya-later" --to anyone who's leaving
• "Hugs! (we hug) Kithes! (we kiss) High fi! (we high five)" --Clara's more-than-daily demand for affection. So cute.
• "Baby A-na" --the name of her baby doll and every baby we see in pictures or in public, not to mention the name of her little cousin...

Some of my favorite and most persistent Clara mis-pronunciations

• "Noke"--milk
• "Beet-beet" --the sound a horn makes
• "Gink-gee" --stinky
• "Block-ee" --broccoli
• "A-pack" --backpack
• "Neea" --banana
• "Ca-pa" --grandpa
• "Pu-ter" --computer

Surprisingly, she can say many words accurately and clearly; I would say over a hundred of them, if not more.  She's coming right along in her communication-skills.

And, she's finally referring to me as mommy, which is heart-warming.  Up until now I've pretty much been the "hey you!" who will come if she cries or fusses, so there was no motivation for her to label me with a name, even though Mitch has been "dad" for like a year.

I'm happy to say I'm moving up in the world!

Inside the Mind of a Toddler

I have often wonder what goes on inside Clara's little brain. She obviously thinks about things and has her own rationale-process, interests, and opinions.

Well, wonder no more.

Now that Clara has become increasingly verbal, I get to hear much more of what's on her mind.  There are certain topics and word sets that she randomly and frequently brings up and "talks" about (by repeating the related words thoughtfully over and over again), in the car, at dinner, on walks, at bedtime.

In order of frequency, as best I can identify it, these are:

1. buckling, seat
2. dancing, song, spider
3. shoes, sockies, boots
4. cold, outside
5. baby, seeping
6. light, off

And that's more or less what Miss Clara thinks about all day.

Not entirely surprising. That child does love her buckling and dancing.

The Eye of the Beholder

We all see value in different things. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

This week I prepared a baby gift for my expectant friend. I placed it in a bag, arranged tissue paper neatly around it, set it aside, and continued on with my daily household activities. 

About five minutes later Clara walks into the room proudly wearing the gift bag on her head, grinning, and repeating, "hat. hat." I grab it off and look inside for the gift. It is empty. I retrace her steps back to my bedroom and look around the for the newborn sleeper and book. They are no where to be seen.  

Eventually, after a thorough search and in slight desperation, I return to Clara, get down on her level, and showing her the empty bag and pointing inside, attempt to communicate my question... hoping she can understand.

Thankfully, she does. Without a word she slides off her chair and traipses back into the bedroom, guiding me directly to the trash can and standing hesitantly a few feet in away. Sure enough, there they are. 

Despite the fact that I had to fish my friend's gift out of the trash (thankfully it was still wrapped in tissue paper and otherwise undefiled), I appreciated Clara's perspective. She saw value where I did not: a hat where I saw irrelevant and trash where I saw worthwhile.

I guess it's true what they say: one man's trash is another man's treasure. Literally.

And beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

My Beautiful

Little Helper in the Wings

Clara has taken quite a liking to babies in recent weeks.

It started with our most recent visit with her cousin Anna (a 6 mo. old).  Clara was elated every time Anna entered the room.  She would squeal, drop whatever she was doing, and run to greet her with her full attention.

Since then, she has taken a special interest in her baby doll, especially carrying her around and find places for her to do her "seeping" with her blanket and pillow.  (Anna was "seeping" most of Clara's waking hours during her visit).

Now, two of the last three times I've picked Clara up from the church nursery, the volunteers have gone to retrieve her from the fenced off baby area where she was busily "helping" with the babies in lieu of playing with the other toddlers.  The third of these occasions she was had not been allowed into the baby zone by the volunteers, but was still straining on her tiptoes to see over the bookshelf-wall when I entered.

Any baby she sees while out in public will make her very excited.

So, with the impending birth of her very own baby brother, I'm glad to see I have a little helper developing in the wings.  I'm sure she will reach the end of her good feelings towards him at points, but all in all she will take to this baby boy in no time.

Now for the issue of too much help...

Crying Can Be Distressing

A crying baby can be distressing. 

Clara's recent visit with her baby cousin Anna illustrated this sentiment well. Anna was crying in her room, trying to get down for a nap, and we were all listening to her on the monitor to make sure that happened in a timely fashion. Meanwhile, Clara wandered around, apparently distressed by the crying, unable to get on with her play, and periodically whining and searching around in the vicinity of the monitor for the baby.  As this process continued, Clara eventually identified the monitor as the noisy culprit... and proceeded to deposit it decisively in the trash can.

Then, last night, after a long, hard afternoon of playing at the Magic House and eating at Fitz's, Clara and her one-year-old buddy Zoe were clearly overtired. On the 25 minute drive home, Zoe expressed her fussiness in periodic shouts of discontent, while Clara furiously sucked her thumb and twirled her hair, brow furrowed. After about 10 minutes of unsuccessful attempts to quiet Zoe, she let out another shout, and Clara lost it. Her body was racked inconsolably with sobs.  After several rounds of singing songs and rubbing her leg and holding her hands, she calmed down. No sooner than we all breathed a sigh of relief, Zoe let out yet another shout, and Clara melted down once again.  This same cycle repeated itself the rest of the way, with the final shout-meltdown combo producing the most forlorn plea I've heard.  Through the tears Clara shook her head, and through her tears sobbed "no mo! no mo! no mo! no mo!"

It gave us all a good laugh in the midst of a stressful circumstance.  Thankfully we were almost home, so there was to be "no mo."  And, what's more, once Zoe and Clara were out of the car, diapers changed, pj's on, milks in hand, they decided they liked each other again.  All's well that ends well!

Poor Clara's in for some rude life changes in only a few months now.

Clara and Her Bucket

In our playroom there is an ice bucket.  It's too leaky to use for its intended purpose, but makes a great receptacle for the various kids balls we've accumulated.

Clara, being the girly-girl that she is, has little to no interest in playing with these balls.  Her main entertainment comes from dumping the out (they roll under couches and behind play bins), and dragging the bucket around to sit in.  

Last night we watched a movie with some friends.  Clara cracked us all up by moving her bucket right in front of the TV and reclining there for the duration of her movie-watching attention span.

Now, this evening, as I cleaned up dinner, she bustled and banged around to get her bucket into the dining room, select a book, and situate herself in her bucket to read it.  I had to laugh... and take a picture or two.  She's so funny!  And so serious about seeing her mission through to its completion!