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:)

THE GREATEST DAY IN CLARE'S LIFE...

HAS ARRIVED!

Since the second I saw my beautiful daughter on the ultrasound (she was about 5.5 weeks old:) I dreamed of this day.

Walking?

No.

SHE CAN WEAR HAIR BOWS!

Pictures to follow by Monday.

Technology

So, we all know that one day, our 9 year old will teach us all of the applications on our phone/computer/navigator/microwave oven we carry in our pockets, right?

I know that when I worked in retail, I had a ton of "kids" (16-21 year old girls) who worked for me. When I would get a new phone or need to know how to do something on mine, they would kindly teach me, while ridiculing the dorky "mom" phone I carried. Teaching a 16 year old how to work a POS (register) was typically pretty easy. Teaching a 40+ year old Mom made me want to kill myself. However, teaching a 16 year old how to count change was equally excruciating (apparently, according to my kids, the teachers no longer do the lesson in kindergarten with the paper coins to teach how to make change). It was a generation gap.

When my parents first purchased a computer for our home, it was, to put it nicely, humorous. Good times. My parents are known to hang onto to things well past their prime. When I was in high school, we purchased my parents an answering machine/phone combo unit. It was to replace the rotary phone in the kitchen that my sister and I were mortified by. Now please understand, this phone was not a "faux" rotary with buttons in the center of each circle on the dial. No, you had to physically turn the wheel for each number. Have you ever at 12, tried to win a radio call in phone contest on one of those? 'Cause I have. My parents refused to switch the phones out, based on the principle the other one worked fine. My sister, always the doer of the duo, took an opportunity one day when she was in high school, to disassemble the phone into many pieces, beyond recognition, thus ensuring a normal phone would replace it. We even had call waiting on that phone. You had to hit the handle that the phone rested in to switch over. Once my parents finally moved and used a "new" phone, they would constantly tell me they were going to "flash" over (as in they hit the "flash" button to click over). I would roll my eyes at how un-hip they were to technology. When we first got cell phones, their was no greater game than calling the house phone from the cell phone on your lap to watch my Mom go answer the house phone. It always made us pee our pants. My Dad had the same cell phone for nearly 10 years. The cell phone company finally replaced it for FREE because it was going to no longer continue to work.

These types of stories could continue on all day. Honestly, I never get sick of telling them. So, I've always known that when Clare was 8 and begging me for a cell phone, one that would likely cost more than my first car, she would know more about phones then me. Chris, a little more techie, was likely to escape that fate a little longer.

On Sunday morning, Chris had to go do theater lighting and be up at 9. So, Clare and I went upstairs to join him in bed to wake him up. Above our bed, mounted is a remote for ceiling fan/light combo that has been up on our ceiling since I was pregnant. We mounted the holder for the remote and use it like a switch so we don't have the "you were the last one in, why didn't you turn off the light" speech, or the "you lost the remote, AGAIN?" fight. Clare thinks it may be the best toy in the house. She is always racing for it and pulling it down and pressing all of the buttons. She looks immediately to the fan, because she knows that it somehow controls the fan/lights. She also showed us on Sunday the light has a dimmer. She would hold the button down to make the light get low and then make it bright again. We were stunned. Our 10 month old just showed us up. My 10 month old just taught me to use my light remote. Fantastic.

*see comment section

Almost...

Clare is almost a walker! She is taking several (up to 8 or 9) steps in a row! I'll be sure to get video this weekend and post it on the blog. I can't believe how fast the time goes....

pics

This is Clare's new favorite face...cute, huh?

TV

So, here is the thing about the frequency of the blog posts.

In the beginning, when Clare was 1-2 months old (which I believe is before I even started the blog) she slept. Like no body's business. This kid would take a nap every three hours. I would usually have grand plans about getting things done (like a shower or brushing my teeth). Instead, I would take a nap. Or finish whatever train wreck show I was watching during the last feeding on TLC. Then, I would walk towards the shower and she would wake. Instantly. It was like magic. So, I took showers, with her on the boppy on the floor. I would poke my head out every 3-4 minutes and make faces or sing. Hot stuff.

Then, around 3-4 months, Clare started wiggling around a little and sleeping a little less. So showers consisted of her wiggling off the boppy if at all possible. So, before I could shower, I would clean the bathroom floor and lay her on a blanket on the padded rug, on her boppy, with toys tied to the towel bar and sing songs and pop my head out every 1-2 minutes.

Next, Clare was 5-6 months, and would take 2 naps a day. And she could ROLL. Clearly a genius, she could ROLL. And so, I would place pillows all around the bathroom and she could ROLL around and sit up. However, we have a tiny bathroom. Like baby sized. So, too soon she could reach gross things, and it was time for Clare to play in her crib, while I shower. Still not smart enough (most days) to shower during nap, I would hustle her upstairs into the crib with every non-choking hazard toy and let her play, which would last 3-4 minutes and I would race through my shower, singing loudly, camp songs. Delightful. 'Cause my voice is mediocre at a whisper. It's beyond interesting at a scream. Shaving my legs became a thing of the past. Or at least both legs. There were 1 or 2 times that I would jump out of the shower with one leg shaved. Or one stripe on one leg shaved. I'm telling you, it's hot stuff.

Fast forward to now. Clare has a BFF, called tv. I'm not proud of this. I swore she would not watch tv until she was 2 years old, per the AAP. However, it's like crack. There is this show. It's bizarre. Very strange things happen on this show. Somehow I have 14 episodes on my DVR. And she freakin' loves it! Loves it! It's called Yo Gabba Gabba. I will put a link in a comment to their website if you have not yet had the pleasure of this show. And there are tons of people that sing songs on this show. And they do the dancey-dance. And they teach lessons. And life skills.
Here are some examples taught in song:
1. Don't, Don't, Don't bite your friends! Chomp, Chomp, Chomp? No, No, No.
2. Please & Thank you, Please & Thank you, Please & Thank you. Magic, Magic, Magic.
3. Try It! You'll Like it! Try It! And you'll like it!
4. Skippy, Skippy, Skip, Skip (also there is another version, called jumpy, jumpy, jump, jump...very different).

You see, people, I can't make this crap up. Because I wouldn't be able to teach Clare these skills. Sure, don't bite your friends, but you may need to in a pinch. I mean she only has 2 teeth. Who is going to take her seriously if she doesn't give a good chomp? And please and thank you are great. Great. Until you've asked someone 3 damn times to take out the trash. Then, eventually, you have to drop the please part. Because it isn't magic when you are speaking to a bad listener.
And, you may not always like it. Like deviled eggs. And things Aunt Erin eats. Don't bother to try it. It's gross. I gave Clare beets the other night. She freaked out. Lost her sh**. Cried with her mouth open, tongue out (like please get this nasty thing off, it's so gross). So, upon smelling it, she probably could have ascertained that, no, trying it would not make her like it.

That said, Clare (as previously mentioned) started waving about a month ago. So, here's the thing. I don't wave (especially not to my neighbors, the damn weirdos). Chris, the more likely of the two of us to wave, also, not a waver. So, we realized this morning, Clare learned to wave from tv! From Yo Gabba Gabba, my shower savior. All validated. We realized she waves to the tv when she hears Hi and Bye. These shows are genius. If it could only teach her cook and take out the trash, we would be golden!

Since it's mostly girls that read my blog, I think they should create an adult male Yo Gabba Gabba. Think of all that would be accomplished. We could tie it into sports or girls in bathing suits (or both!). We would have to name it something tricky. Suggestions? We could have catchy little songs. Like,
Don't, Don't, Don't PutYourDirtyDishInTheSinkWhenTheDishwasherIsEmpty
AndPerfectlyReadyForDirtyDishes..
Or something similar. We could work on the phrasing. Make it more campy.

I mean if Clare can learn to wave....just think of the possibilities!

What's new?

Clare had fun visitors last week! Aunt Heather and Great Aunt Lisa came out to visit. It rained nearly everyday, so we were forced to go to malls (oh, how we suffered). Aunt Heather was spit on several times by Clare as she tried to feed her. Aunt Heather would warn Clare, very clearly, not to spit as she put the food in her mouth (usually something that stains) and each and every time, Clare would spit it all over her and laugh. It was great to see Aunt Heather get picked on by a baby. Aunt Lisa, who is almost fully grown, was also a source of amusement to Clare. Clare has never seen a person that small. I mean, sure, other kids are that size. But an adult? It seems to be not possible. I whispered to Clare often that this is what happens to people who don't eat their veggies. We'll see if it scared her. Clare was a huge fan of Aunt Lisa. Or at least Aunt Lisa's glasses and necklace, which she attempted to ripe off of her face.
Clare also has some new talents! She can wave (hi and bye). This has been going on for a few weeks. At the mall, Clare waves to everyone who makes eye contact with her. Clare, unlike her mother, likes people and makes friends easily. So usually, I'm stuck behind the stroller, wondering if it's rude to push her away yet as strangers make faces and wave to her. I've learned (after many, many minutes of this "game") to never acknowledge the person waving or talking to her, unless they are within reach. That way, you seem distracted and not rude when you promptly push the stroller away. Because, seriously, I don't have all day. Clare, the little social butterfly, thinks it's her job to make friends with every person at the mall. I'm more of "get in, get out" kinda gal and wants to hustle. Clare does look very surprised if an adult ignores her. If she waves and makes eye contact and the total stranger on the receiving end does not reciprocate, Clare tends to smack her hands on the bar and scream at the person. This typically makes me giggle.
Clare also has some "new" toys via my Craigslist drug-deal type purchase. I'll be sure to blog more later on this on. She has a push behind walker and ball popper. Clare loves both. She and Aunt Heather had a tough time playing with the ball popper. Clare likes to put the balls back in the place they "pop" out of and Aunt Heather isn't a great sharer when the kid isn't playing with the toy correctly. At one point, Heather used the toy as a weapon to shoot balls at me. See, she's mature like that.
One of the pics above, you can even see Clare's 2 teeth! That's the culprit behind her drooling problem.
So, hope everyone had a great week! Congrats to my newest "pregnant" friend. I would advise some of you not to drink the water at the next Morris Girls Reunion. It's very catching:)