Sockin' It To Ya

Birdie Brigade, as you know, Our Birdie is her own Bird. Of late, she has been exerting her will when it comes to her socks. When Joe was her same age, of course, he didn't have a three-and-a-half year old showing him how it was done. But Clara sees her big brother picking out his own undies, and his own socks, and she will do the same to the extent she can, thank you very much. It took her a few days to get her well-meant (but frankly doltish) parents to catch what she was throwing. Initially, we were thinking she just thought the socks were toxic and her feet would instantly rot if she put them on. No. The socks were not toxic. We were just dumb. To get us to see reason, Birdie had to reject the socks initially proffered; go to her clothes cupboard and bang on the doors with an open hand; and then dramatically toss herself on the floor, wailing, when said cupboard remained closed. Now, after Birdie is dressed, the magical clothing cupboard is opened, she is lifted up to select her own pair, and then left to her own devices until she requests help, or it is time to go--by which point she has usually wrestled with them enough to know that it ain't gonna happen without an assist.*

*Having said that, we should, by way of an advance preview of coming attractions, mention that Birdie has learned how to do the coat-flip trick. She nails it every. Single. Time. Video to follow once we get our acts together during the morning melee to capture it on film.

Dude, I got this. How hard can it be? I've seen Doh do it.

It can't go on your hand? For real? So maybe it's a little hard. (It's true. I am running in and out of my room here. Opening and closing the door. It's all the rage right now with me and Doh.)

Reading With Bird: Still A Bear of a Different Color

Reading to Clara Jane is a whole different experience than reading to Joe is, or ever was. Birdie is sweet--so sweet--but rather rakish, and this later trait means that she may engage in all manner of antics before finally settling in.* Such was the case tonight. When she finally did allow Julie to read to her, the second book she selected was Brown Bear, a book she had flatly and vociferously rejected only minutes before, and indeed practically every time it has been suggested to her in the past few months. She does this with her signature you've-got-to-be-kidding-me no.** Naturally, she then wanted to read Brown Bear three times.

Then, she wanted to read What's In My Pocket? which has also been on hiatus. Be that as it may, Clara Jane knew just what was in each animal's pocket: carrot (rabbit), cheese (mouse), peanuts (elephant), and all of the above and a joey (kangaroo). She requested this book be read multiple times, too, and Julie noticed the second time through that Clara's seemingly random punching of the pages and putting her hands in her mouth was really not so random. Instead, Clara was giving the animals some of their respective snacks, and "eating" some herself! The third time through, Julie was also offered some imaginary snacks. After the third time through, it was time for bed and, as usual, Clara protested. What Julie usually does is to tuck Clara in close and break out the trusty shushing. Kisses are usually dispensed as well.

Tonight, Julie gave Clara kiss and felt Clara pull back, and then plant her open mouth on Julie's cheek (which is how Clara kisses). Oh, Bridie Brigade. Who can resist such charms? (Then Clara said "Nose?" and pointed to Julie's nose, and then teeth (so funny!), and then ears, eyes, and then back to teeth which led to mouth which led to hand chomping (also so funny!) and then, it really was time for bed, and Birdie conked right out.)

*(Another) representative example: select a book and then try to bait its would-be reader into a game of chase by streaking out of the room with it.

**(Yet another) representative example: Clara was in the midst of expressing her consternation about something or other this morning when Julie attempted to distract her by asking Clara to find the (toy) broccoli. Clara said no and the look on her face added "Mom. I have got the broccoli down. If you don't, at 35 years, I don't know how to help you. But please, don't patronize me."

What Comes From Not Napping

Today, Clara Jane went down hard for her nap, and again at bed. This is notable because, of late, she can often be seen prancing around her crib, hanging on its rail, giving her stuffed companions contained within what for, and probably waiting up for Joe, before yucking it up with him, before finally going to sleep.

Representative Example 1

Representative Example 2

Indeed, yesterday afternoon, Clara was amusing herself (and intermittently wailing) when Julie, who had gone from the back of the house to the front of the house, and back again via the path that runs alongside the house and is visible from the bambini's bedroom widows, heard a substantial uptick in wailing. She glanced back and saw that the blinds covering the window were noticeably ajar. That's right, Brigade. Our Birdie was standing up in her crib, and had pulled back the blinds to check out what was happening on Fern Hill*, when it would appear that she saw her mother. Julie is all kinds of fabulous to Clara Jane right now and clearly, Birdie thought her life was about to get a little less fabulous, and who knew for how long? Best to assume worst case scenario--clearly. Such is what comes from not napping.

*As our neighborhood is known.

The Dynamic Duo Does Under the Snuggly Little Bed

Here are the Dynamic Duo tonight in the hour before dinner. Several things were happening: a game of Chutes and Ladders was being played; pretend bread was being eaten (the bread was also playing Chutes and Ladders); and Clara was going to and fro with Chutes and Ladders game pieces, its spinner, the pretend bread, and kitty (the small pink one). Fans, Our Hero's heart really is one of a kind, and he is quite the brother. When Clara first got all mixed up in the Chutes and Ladders game, it was Julie's turn, so she picked the spinner up and asked Clara to spin for her. Joe's turn was next, of course, and without missing a beat, he said, "Clara, do you want to spin for me?" He is, also, a willing accomplice in all his sister's scheming. Our Hero is, of course, as you know, Fans, quite the follower of rules, while Our Birdie is a bit more devil may care. Toss game pieces under the bed and wiggle in after them? Yes! Sounds like a gas! Do it again? And again? and again?! The only thing better could be doing it again--or possibly tossing something down the heat register that is under there. Joe wouldn't think of that--wouldn't dream of it--but no doubt, one day, Birdie will lead the way, and he will happily follow.

Wipes, A Love Story

Birdie is pictured here with two of her greatest loves of the moment: a wipe, and the multi-use pad that covers her changing pad (folded up, her left). Both were temporarily readily accessible to her in a way that had not been, as the overhaul of the bambini's room meant that the low dresser on which the changing pad rested was eliminated. Now, the changing pad is kept tucked under Clara's crib. We had been keeping the wipes and a small plastic tub with diapers and the various diaper creams the wee-est Ekkers have needed to keep their bums looking as they should. But this all changed when we happened upon Clara shortly before this picture was taken with a good many more wipes pulled out than seen here, and then some, the top of the container clearly having popped open in the frenzy allowing for great hunks of wipes to be removed and plopped on the floor. Now, the diapering supplies reside on a shelf. It's a little sad for all involved--Clara for obvious reasons, and us because of late, Clara has taken to announcing when she has pooped ("Poop! Poop!"--all very "Danger, Will Robinson!" in tone), and dashing off to make ready the supplies for changing her diaper. She would take the wipe container out, and the tub with the diapers and sundries, and then stand on the changing pad like she'd just executed a gold medal-caliber vault, before plopping down. So endearing! (When feeling her oats, she would do all of these things save plop down; instead, she'd whip the multi-use pad off the changing pad and make off like she'd robbed a bank.)

Now, she wails and attempts to roll over until she is permitted to remove one wipe from the container, which she then fondles adoringly for the remainder of the diaper change.

At least she's taken with the wipes instead of the Desitin. That could have been very messy.