Bows

Okay, Okay. Maybe Friday's post was a mild exaggeration.
Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't THE GREATEST DAY IN CLARE'S LIFE.
That was more likely to be the first day she had grapes. Or cotton candy. Or even Aunt Ginny's pea soup.

It was however, a very, very good day in MY life. I was very excited about the bow. It took about 32+ pictures to readjust the placement of said bow. Another 32+ pictures later, I realized that the only reason Chris and I can afford a roof over our heads is because they came out with digital cameras, rather than the old fashion method of developing the pics, no matter how many crappy, finger in front of the lens shots you have.

160 pictures later and I realized that I need to think about the fact this is just the yellow bow. We haven't even tried the 10 bows upstairs in her room. Soon-be-Momma Hays sent us the adorable outfit Clare is wearing in the pictures (you've all seen the Capri's...they fit her so well and have so many different colors she wears them at least once a week with different tops). The bow was a gift with the outfit and stays in her hair so well that I began to get a little nervous.
What if the other bows don't work? Well, a quick test run that evening (Clare loved that game) ensured that the majority of the bows will work. We can all sleep at night now=).

In other, non bow related news...
Clare has another tooth coming in. She was less than thrilled. It's an eye tooth or the one next to it. She is less reasonable when she is teething about me jamming my finger in her mouth to check in out, so it's hard to determine the tooth's exact placement (and ultimately not that important in life).

She is also "walking" more. I use quotes because she still crawls if she needs to be somewhere quickly. She can walk. She just chooses not to. So, despite having numerous text books claiming the various stages of motor development (and essentially a bachelors degree in the topic) I can't quite make the call as to whether she is a "walker" per se. Really, she is at like Stage 2 of 4 (or 5 depending on whose motor development scale you are using) in walking. However, strangers who ask how old she is and if she's walking yet don't really care about that breakdown with clinical assessments as to the fine details. So, I just use quotes. Even in person.

In one of the pictures above you can see a visual representation of my biggest fear in life. Currently we have "baby jail" which is the plastic gated system we use to corral Clare in the living room with toys in a safe place so I can "clean" (clean=talk on the phone and occasionally empty the dishwasher:). Clare started climbing baby jail. If she learns how to break out....I break out in a cold sweat just typing those words. I drink now. I'm not sure what I will have to do at that point. I was kinda bankin' on baby jail holding her until she was...5? Or even 16?

I hope everyone had a great weekend! I'll be traveling home soon, so I can't wait to see most (all) of you!

Ohhh, and Happy Belated Birthday Wyatt:)