and then we read books.

Claire has an attention span for books that I've never seen in another kid her size. Her favorite pastime is to bring approximately ten frillion books to me one by one. She intentionally hands me each one to me from a distance, so that I won't scoop her up and start reading. She wants to make sure that the pile is impressive. Then she reminds me to say thank you (de-do) for each book, and runs to the bookshelf to get a few more. This would be cute if it didn't happen ten times a day. This week, she hit an all time record.
I'm trying to savor it while I can, her animal noises, her shouts of "dada!" at every male character, the way she says "bushies" about a certain Russian grandmother, before she becomes way too cool to read with mama.

boy yammies and her doat.

Last week, I realized that all of Claire's jammies were either very near capri status, or in the case of those with feet, looking a little painful. I decided to forgo the usual polka dot cuteness of girl pajamas, and pick up a couple pairs of boy pjs. The girlie who loves her trucks and buses couldn't have been more pleased.

Yesterday, as we were getting ready for church, I asked her if she wanted to wear pants or a dress. Her response? "My doat." Sadly, her doat is not the ultra cute plaid peacoat that I put on her every chance I get. Her doat is this green velor bomber style coat that we picked up for $3 at a thrift store when we were at the coast. She was cold, and it was there. The doat is too small, ill-fitting and has a suspicious looking bunny embroidered on the front. Needless to say, the girl loves it. I am not a fan. If she'd had her way, she would have worn the bottom half of her yammies and the doat with no shirt under it to church. We compromised by letting her wear the coat over regular clothes. The girl shed actual tears over the whole thing.

I can only imagine what's going to happen when this child starts requesting Dora shirts and Melmo pants.

21

Dear Claire,
Today you are 21 months old. You love trucks, trains and especially buses. Lucky for you, there is a private school behind our house and the school buses roll by twice a day. You stop whatever you're doing and toodle over to the window to begin your commentary, "A bus! Hey, kids!" And then you wave. Over and over.

I continue to be amazed at what you can do. There are words that you say that I don't remember teaching you. ("I tooted," comes to mind). We've been trying to teach you to say excuse me, but you refuse. You just make your announcement and laugh like it's the funniest thing ever. Because we make you say it, I now have a reason to make your Dada say, "Excuse me, I tooted." And believe me, there are plenty of opportunities for that around here.

You have been sick the last few days and we've been cooped up indoors and restless. You haven't been sleeping great, and one night I rocked you for what felt like hours. Your little legs dangled past my knees and I remembered how very tiny you once were. Even though I wasn't thrilled about being up at 2 AM, it made it easier to take knowing that you were able to rest there in my arms, even though you're a big girl now, who can announce her farts and everything. I love you, Pooper. I'm always glad you're mine.
Love,
Mama

Dear Rookies,

First you take a one year old in a canoe. Then you take her mountain biking. Now this. 4 hours of driving for 30 minutes of snow play, while 2 of you had colds? Geniuses.

At least you got to put her in a miniature snowsuit. And the cheeseburgers were good.

dry days!

Early this week, I heard on the news that in our city something like the last 68 out of 75 days had been raining. No wonder the girl and I have been the tiniest bit punchy. We're tired of being cooped up, tired of paying to play in the indoor park, tired of Melmo. This week, it's we've had a couple of dry days and have been able to get outside. We even took to walks that didn't result in a very soggy mama. It's of course been cold, but seriously, who cares? We're both just so happy for the change of scenery.

a post for the littlest one.

Leslie is doing something really cool over at her blog. Something way more important than cute pictures of Claire. Please head over there and participate in the Encouragement Project. Even if you don't know Kristan. Even if you're not a mama. Her little guy was born last week and is truly a miracle. They all still need prayer. His mama is one of the sweetest people I've ever met. Go on, get out of here.

a good year.

On New Year's Eve 2006, we all got sick at the same time, for the first time. That was neat.

In February, we moved from the little house to this one. That little house holds tons of my memories, but this is home now. He was right. We are home to each other.

We had our first trip to the ER as a family. Later, I became convinced that my house was trying to kill me. Man, this recap is kind of a downer.

On a happy note, after a year of motherhood, I discovered this little gem. Also, I started praising my girl in my sleep.

She walked! And I changed the name of this verytiny blog.

The Dada did fine for two nights without me and then removed our roof.

I discovered that the car does not make the woman.

Last fall, I posted a photo of myself showcasing my wonderful sense of style.

Of everything I wrote in this blog during the month of November, this was my most favorite November post. Go figure.

After all of that blogging in November, I kind of got tired of my own voice. I barely posted in December, and the most important things that happened in our lives during that month never made it into the blog. But lately, I've missed having a place to write it all down.
For no reason at all, a photo of the girl with a sock on her hand, because why not?

greesh!

Every morning, Claire greets me with the same few words. For one day this week, she added a new word. "Dada. Baba. Monk. Greesh!" She shouted. What is a Greesh, you ask? Greesh is Claire's little buddy, Grace. While Greesh's mommy and daddy were welcoming a new sister into this world, the girls got to have their first slumber party. My girlie tried make Greesh feel right at home and brought her Greesh's favorite blankie at least 25 times in the space of an hour. Afterward, Claire would remind Greesh to say thank you.

I remember the first time Claire and I saw Grace. She seemed so tiny and I wondered if the girls would ever be able play together. Now, the six months between them seems small. I can't wait to watch them grow up together, holding hands at church and squealing when they see each other.

first full sentence.

"I did the poo poo."

-Claire, Costco, Friday afternoon.

i must remember.

*How a certain kitchen cupboard makes an excellent clubhouse.
*How at 20 months she requires books in her crib to sleep.
*Teaching her to Eskimo kiss and then teaching her to do it a little less enthusiastically.
*That she waves and shouts hello to the pinatas at the grocery store.
*How she and Grace looked yesterday. Playing and holding hands like girls instead of babies. How they rocked together in the chair, and when Grace was tired of rocking, Claire kept doing the please sign to her friend, trying to get her to return.