Dryden Family Reunion

The Drydens (and various other surnames by marriage) converged on Hamilton, Georgia and Callaway Gardens for a brief family reunion. The kid count remains 22 and shows no immediate or obvious sign of going higher. Though no one would claim the good work of Dryden multiplication has yet been exhausted, it seems safe to say the rate has slowed from a torrent to a trickle.

The scary part of the siblings is recognizing that some of the "kids" are clearly not kids anymore. David is 21 and had a girlfriend in tow, Annie is 19, and the group we've become so comfortable referring to as the "tweens," are now as near adulthood as they are teenagers. (Though the next wave of cousin tweens is on the cusp of replacing them.)

The reunion encouraged Clara's developing boy-craziness, a phenomena that seems focused on 11-13 year old cousins. From the McKnight reunion, she would turn coy and blush around Christopher. She had a fertile field to choose from with the Drydens and now has a bona fide crush on Jack, Will, and Matt.

In Raleigh we have a mousepad with family picture from the 2005 reunion. Clara walks around with it, pointing out (and pronouncing) "Jackkk," "Wuhl," and "Matt." When we put her to sleep each night, we sing the "Night, Night" lullaby, and she insists that we insert the following names into the tune: Jack, Will, Matt, Elmo, Mama, Dada, and Pap-paw.

Thank you to Karen and the Walkers for hosting us this year!

Aunts Jeannie & Libby

The Lock Haven trip brought the chance to catch up with the Bowes side of the family. Aunts Jeannie and Libby came over for a visit, and Clara did her best to impress. 

Down By the River

The Susquehanna River runs through the middle of Lock Haven. The McKnights have kept a dock there for years, giving easy access to the cool waters for nice summer swims in the shadows of the mountains. As you can see, Clara enjoyed herself thoroughly.

Christmas in July

Being the only McKnight grandchild has its privileges, as Clara found out when we entered Grandma and Pap-paw's house in Lock Haven. Barb called it Christmas in July and ensured that Clara will always associate going to her grandparent's home with scoring a jackpot of new toys. An expectation, I know, that won't bother her grandparents in the least.

Clara at 17 Months

We broke Camp on another McKnight family reunion and headed to Lock Haven to spend a few days relaxing in Kate's hometown. Here Clara hit the 17-month mark, enjoying the occasion with her Grandma and Pap-paw in Central Pennsylvania's relatively cool air.

The past month brought a verbal explosion from Clara. While babbling remains dominant, more words are coming through, a few sentences are taking hold, and there's a clear sense that the babbles are more than mere noises. They seem to be genuine attempts to express thoughts. 

No one should be surprised that her first, most distinct sentence was something along the lines of "Ay da booob!" Interpretation: Mother, would you be kind enough to provide me with sustenance from your bosoms?  "Boob" was one of her earliest words, so this sentence comes as no shock. 

We still negotiate with Clara each night, begging if you will, that she sleep through the night. We like to think we maintain the slightest modicum of parental authority as, each night, we gently request that she sleep straight through until the late-late hour of 6 am. We ply her with promises of better endowed college savings accounts, more time watching Elmo videos, or baby mani-pedis. We go so far as suggesting specific dream themes  that might make her sleep more contentedly (when asked, she tells us she will dream about Elmo and Jack, her cousin). 

For all this effort, she has slept until 6 am one time in the past month. Her preferred wake-up remains 5 am, with one or two brief rouses through the night.  

Clara is becoming more familiar with letters thanks to frequent reinforcement from her mother. To date, she is fluent in S, O, X, D, A, and she can (on occasion) point out F and N. See what you scrabble fanatics can do with that lineup. 

She likes routine and structure. Everyday, as Dada is leaving for work, she runs to the kitchen cabinet and pulls out his lunch bag. Paul doesn't use that bag for lunch anymore, but she insists he takes it anyway. It is part of the routine. 

Finally, she categorizes everything as mamas, dadas, babies, and (sometimes) pap-paws. If there are multiples of anything, the big one is mama and the small one is baby. If there's a third, it might be designated a dada. She likes to point out her friends' mamas and dadas. And when we were at the park the other day, she noted that a child was there with her pap-paw. 

McKnight Reunion - A Few More Snapshots

Paul, Kate & Clara banished ourselves to the old cabin for the weekend on account of Clara's tendency to scream at the top of her lungs a few times each night. We figured this wouldn't go over so well with the 10 or so open rooms (with nearly 20 occupants) in the main cabin.

Even with the hotter than usual weather in Punxie, it was a welcomed respite from the 100-degree days in Raleigh. On the first night the temperature dropped into the 50s! Soooooo nice.

Last year at the reunion, Clara was breaking her first teeth as a five-month old. This year she was running around with the rest of the McKnight clan, a sharp set of chompers on her jaw, holding her own when called for and taking charge with her almost 17-month old gibberish.

McKnight Reunion - Camp Pond

The infamous spring-fed FREEZING McKnight Camp Pond; the center for most reunion activities. Clara built her courage slowly, but was a full and eager swimmer by the end of the weekend.

Blueberries for Clara

We made the 9-ish hour drive from Raleigh to Punxatawney, Clara's first in face-forward position. She actually spent the first three straight hours in the car seat. A first! We are big fans of face-forward.

The ostensible purpose of the trip was Q-T with the family in the form of the McKnight family reunion at Camp and the chance to spend a few days in Lock Haven afterwards. But does it make you question some of our motives knowing that we would return with (no exaggeration) 120 pounds of blueberries in the back of our vehicle?

Using our best estimates, this will last Clara about three weeks.

We were intent on making her savor each bite a bit more this year by conscripting her into hard picking labor in the blueberry patch. We even had the bright idea of prepping her with a little visualization technique: reading Blueberries for Sal each night for a month...getting her mind right...getting her focused on some serious pickin'.

In hindsight, we probably should have read the book ourselves first. Little Sal is of no help to her mother. She mopes along blueberry hill eating all the berries straight from the bush, dropping nary a one in her bucket.

Clara emulated this technique perfectly.

Facing Forward

Clara recently passed the height and weight thresholds for turning the car seat to face forward. We hope the change helps her sit more patiently through our long, long trips to Pennsylvania and Georgia this summer.

She already likes the views provided by the new direction. We learned yesterday what a stoplight is...because she can actually see them when looking through the windshield. She dutifully points out each one she sees.

Frogger Waders

Two-year-old friend Bowen loaned these boots to Clara a few weeks ago. Clara showed moderate interest in them but refused to actually put them on until another friend, Davis, came over this weekend and wanted to walk around the house in the froggy waders. Now, Clara wants to wear them for at least a few minutes everyday.

Aunt Angela

Aunt Angela was especially happy for the chance to spend some time with Clara, and Clara returned the compliment.

Clara warmed up to Angela pretty quickly, the sure sign being Clara reaching out to hold her hand while we drove to the Farmers Market.

Clara was won over with the sidewalk art they created together and the time spent rocking on our annex porch swing.

Angela was impressed that Clara had no trouble saying "Auburn." Next, she says, we have to teach her "War Eagle!"

Rock Mutt!

13-year old cousin Jack plays a mean rhythm guitar for the soon-to-be legendary rock band, ROCK MUTT, the sensation of Buena Vista, Virginia.

Proudly, Rock Mutt's amp volume goes all the way to 11 and they've never lost a drummer to spontaneous combustion...but there should be plenty of other stories to feed their future VH1 Behind the Scenes episodes. (Assuming that show exists anymore.)

Here Clara models one of their sought after limited addition toddler-tees.

Cousins Jack & Will

Here was our warm-up to the upcoming family reunion season. Aunt Angela came through, on her way back South from Virginia, with nephews Jack and Will in tow.

We dragged them along to our most familiar Raleigh haunts -- the Greenway, the state Farmers Market, the Museum of Natural Science, and North Hills for a greasy spoon dinner at Five Guys.

Clara loved having her cousins around. She found it very easy to say "Jack, Jack, Jack", and still does so frequently. He left a permanent impression on her as a music buddy...Jack let her listen to his iPod while we were in the car. Like so many teenagers sharing their tunes, Clara held one earphone while Jack kept the other. She grooved to Red Hot Chili Peppers, Weazer, and Jack Johnson like a seasoned pro at sharing earbuds.

"Will" is a tougher sound for her, but she has been practicing and manages to utter something sounding like "ill." Clara loved that cousin Will shared his magic tricks and was quick to get on the floor to play and read books together. As his parents will be glad to know, he climbed onto our shed every chance he got while Clara (an ambitious climber herself) marveled at his mad skills.

Rock-a-Rock, Rock-a-Rock

We have a serious case of porch envy. So, while our next door neighbors are in the process of moving, we've commandeered theirs. It's our annex porch, complete with rocking chairs and a swing.

Here Clara gets to combine her love of rocking with her obsession with climbing.

Giggling with Mr. Hippo

Clara develops a mean case of the giggles a few times each day. We caught (and provoked) this encounter with Mr. Hippo for documentation purposes.

The most reliable giggles come at bed time, admittedly as delay tactics but musical to us nonetheless.

As Clara waves goodnight to Mama, Kate waves back with Clara's baby doll causing our daughter to laugh hysterically. That warms her up for turning on the sound machine (white noise for sleeping). Clara insists on clicking it into on position herself, an onerous task that can require several attempts before the noise turns on. As she clicks and waits, clicks and waits, clicks and waits it, the process sends her into a serious giggle fit.

Wake Up!

One of Ted McKnight's proud achievements as Clinton County, PA district attorney was the creation of a program to discourage underage drinking. "Wake Up!", he called it, and he used many untapped marketing maven skills to run public service announcements, create a logo, and distribute t-shirts and sweat shirts.

Clara has learned to associate this orange t-shirt with her Pap-paw. When she sees it in Kate's drawer, she says "Pap! Pap! Pap!"

In the picture below she is pointing (definitely NOT picking...although it is an invasive point) to her appendage and saying "noooose." It sounds like a congested pronunciation of nose.

Down the Big Slide

Clara is asserting her independence more and more these days. From wanting to eat her yogurt herself with a big person's spoon (messy), to resisting any attempts to help her as she crawls up on furniture (obsessed), to insisting on going down the 10-foot-high slide on the playground with no assistance.

These pictures don't do it full justice. The next week, Paul brought Clara to the same playground, and she insisted on being left at the base of the ladder (with Paul on the ground) so she could climb the last few stairs, get on the slide by herself, and zip down. Fully unassisted.

We applaud her bravery but fully expect it to lead to an emergency room visit sooner rather than later...

Nightime Reading in the Snuggle Chair

We continue our quest for that elusive nighttime routine that will get Clara to sleep in fewer than 30 minutes and ease her into a full 10 hours of uninterrupted rest. This has been a recurring theme of the blog, and we don't anticipate that changing any time in the next 17 or so years.

Lately, we've designated the red chaise lounge outside of Clara's room as the "cuddle chair." We now spend ten or so minutes reading her favorite (and hopefully calming) stories just prior to bedtime. The following have been at the top of the hit list for a couple weeks now.

If You Were My Bunny has several stories you can sing to the tune of familiar nursery rhymes. One is Hush Little Baby. The book calls for "...mama's gonna buy you a..." Clara is quick to correct us that the appropriate lyric is "daddy." As soon as she recognizes the song she looks at us saying, "dada, dada, dada."

Fourth of July

The Quinlans hosted several neighborhood families for a Fourth of July cook-out, where we saw just how many young children and pregnant ladies live around us. What a great area for Clara!

Speaking of the Quinlans, Clara is nearly fluent at saying her friend Ada's name, though the pronunciation is slightly inverted and comes out more like "Ah-Dee." Nonetheless, we know what she means and are duly impressed. (She's working on her friend Olive's name, too. Right now it's just "Ahh.")

More impressive is that she recognizes the streets and knows how to get to Ada's and Olive's houses. True, they're both within three blocks of us. But from Paul's perspective, having lived in the neighborhood for five years and still not recognizing most of the street names, this is no small feat.

The other day, Paul asked Clara where she wanted to go after waking up from her nap. She started up with a chant of "Ah-Dee, Ah-Dee, Ah-Dee!" They go up and down the little slide together and take turns pushing each other around in the curious baby wheelchair thing.

Elmo's Fire

Clara is yet to watch an episode of Sesame Street. To our knowledge, she has had no exposure to this red creature that might justify her reaction to it. Yet, upon seeing her first Elmo plush toy, Clara went to it like a moth to a flame. She simply could not help herself.

She has since learned the creature's name, and "Emmo" has taken its place in Clara's expanding lexicon. Upon entering Border's Books, this young one sprints to the kids section chanting "Emmo, Emmo, Emmo." She won't relent until she's in his (?)...her (?)...its fuzzy embrace.

Be afraid. This is PBS mind control, programming little sleepers at the youngest age. They've tapped into some primitive longing for red, high-pitched, gender-ambiguous, hairy "things" and cashed in by making it omnipresent (and, we're concerned, potentially omniscient?).

We're quite happy that we possess nothing in this house with Elmo's likeness on it. Not only is it a matter of principle (which only means we'll give in some day), but it also gives Clara a special treat to look forward to with any trip to a store that carries the little red devil. (Which, it seems, is all of them.)