Anyway. So, remember Clara? She's the daughter of Tom Thomas and Season—just to catch everyone up to speed. I feel like I'm always saying this, but she's really not so little anymore. I mean—shoot, last year at this time she was drinking from bottles. (Scornful mockery laugh.)
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| Changing her dolly's diaper. |
She can be a real hoot and a holler sometimes. She speaks in total gibberish for the most part, but more and more human words are surfacing—sometimes 2-3 new ones a day. I'll really miss the gibberish once it's gone. Last night she uttered a particularly nice, articulate sentence in babble talk, then giggled, and said, "Fun-ny."
She is funny. Most mornings when I go in to get her from her crib I have to wait for her to finish a few pressing phone calls that she needs to make. She dials on her hand and then presses her hand against her cheek and chats it up. I assume she's calling grandmas and cousins, but she never really tells me, and I don't feel like it's my place to pry.
Also, she figured out that Tom is "Tom" and I'm "Seaz," so she refers to both of us in this manner whenever it seems suitable to her. If I take too long to come get her in the mornings I'll hear a very commanding "Seaz!" "Down!" on repeat until I decide to roll out of bed and retrieve her.
Currently, her favorite stories are Green Eggs and Ham, Brown Bear Brown Bear, What Do You See?, and the real winner is: My Name is Dug. (From Up). Tom gave it to her for Christmas. She loves it because she gets to help find Kevin (the bird), and I love it because I get to practice my Dug voice about 17 times a day.
Clara is exceptionally interested in helping out around the house—which is most definitely something I want to encourage, despite the fact that she usually does the complete opposite of help. She loves to wipe down the table after we eat, and help me empty the dishwasher, and as I mentioned in my last post, she loves throwing things away. And the other day Tom had just finished a bowl of cereal and Clara approached him, said, "Done?" And then took his bowl and spoon and loaded it into the dishwasher for him. Talk about a pal.
It seems like somedays all I do is tell her to stop touching things, take items away from her, or tell her to leave certain things alone. She has a whole mountain of stuff she can touch and play with, but chooses to go for all the objects she knows she's not supposed to touch. I feel like there is a metaphor for life in there somewhere.
She's figured out how to get out of her pajamas, she likes to keep her hands in her pockets, she plays with her teddy grahams before eating them, and she loves to mimic pretty much anything we do.
We think she's better than sliced bread.
There now. I do believe I can safely say I've documented my child's recent behavior for her posterity's sake. Have a lovely Sunday evening—I better be on my way because I have some blind-folded juggling whilst tap dancing the Charleston to get to.
And P.S. If you're wanting some yummy dessert, try the cookie bars. They were perfection.
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| Studying this week's nursery lesson. I promise this is not a staged picture. |
3 comments:
It doesn't take any bribery for me to proclaim that Clara--Clara, indeed!--is my favorite almost-two-year-old grandchild! I am not in the least bit biased when I say that she is an ADORABLE child! Love her...love you!
We don't believe it. That picture is staged. So, as per Tom's comment on FB...does she look like you or Tom?
The mac n cheese sounded good. After we got off the phone with you I realized that my kids were eating it from the box while you guys were enjoying it from scratch. That Clara is just too cute for words.
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