Clara at 22 Months

Spontaneous Alphabet Eruptions

They can happen anytime, anywhere.

We went to a children's Christmas Eve service in Lock Haven for the second consecutive year. It's a time when kids can be kids and parents aren't too embarrassed to see their little ones slide from the pews to sprint up and down the sanctuary aisles.

During the congregation's sleepy recital of Away in the Manger, the spirit moved Clara to pipe in with her own rendition of the alphabet song. And she belted out her vowels and consonants loud and proud, ending with a flourish: "now I know my ABCs, next time won't you sing with me. YEAH!" Clap, clap, clap. Her parents and grandparents are proud, too, clapping along with her.

Such is the pleasure we all derive from Clara knowing her ABCs.

The Negotiated Settlement

After protracted negotiations, Clara is officially weaned. While Kate and Paul achieved the desired outcome, the little one got her pound of flesh in exchange.

The quid pro quo? Unfettered privileges to Sesame Street videos. And she has taken full advantage of that over the past week.

On the down side, in an abstract principled sort of way, we are opposed to our child zoning out in front of the tv or computer. On the up side...1. See above. How do you think Clara learned her ABCs? When it comes to teaching, furry monsters have a distinct advantage over parents. 2. We discovered a new way to get her to take naps that doesn't involve the car seat or stroller! 3. What parent doesn't want a catchy Sesame Street song running through their minds in an endless loop? Thank you Sheryl Crow and Elmo. We REALLY appreciate that "it's almost Christmas day-a-ay-a-ay." (And fair warning to other parents, do not let your child find the horrible, l-o-n-g video called The Add-ems Family. Torture.)

Previously, we related it to a monkey on her back. To carry out the metaphor (which Kate finds tasteless and Paul claims is apt) let's say it's like substituting methadone for smack. Ideal? No. But it sure seems to work.

"No Is Dada Asleep. No Is Mama Asleep."

Unintended consequences of the negotiated settlement: by edict of Clara, there will be no more lounging in bed after Clara wakes up at 4:45. If she can't get BM, everyone better plan on getting out from under those warm covers.

Those first few mornings after hitting the kill switch, we tried to get Clara to just hang out with us in bed so we can grab just a bit more sleep. Not happening. If she is cut off, the last thing she wants is hanging around the place she associates most closely with receiving BM.

Moreover, if she's not getting any, no one else is to hug Mama, kiss Mama, hold Mama's hand or touch Mama in any affectionate way. If Clara catches Paul and Kate hugging, she sprints over, shoves her body between the offenders, and braces them apart with her fully extended arms. "No, no, no!" she shouts while shaking her head vigorously.

And she watches us with the puritanical alertness of a chaperon at the junior high school winter dance. You must be arm's length at all times, and no slow dancing!

On the plus side, it has given Clara the opportunity to exercise the power of her grammar negatives. She was trying out some these before the weaning, and now we think it's safe to say she's proficient with the toddler versions of cannot, does not, won't, etc. In the morning, it's "no Dada asleep; no Mama asleep." During physical contact it's "Dada no touch Mama!" For a hot oven it's "No Clara touch oven. Hot."

Farewell False Choice

Kate spent six arduous years earning her PhD in child clinical psychology. The most significant parenting benefit from said toils was a firm grasp of the false choice, a trick we expected to last us well into Clara's college career. Alas, no. Starting just this week, we have been outsmarted by our 22 month old.

The false choice is about presenting two options to your child when you want them to do something. One option is what you want them to choose and the other is a red herring. It pushes them into your bidding while allowing them to maintain the illusion of control. For example, "Clara, would you prefer to take a bath or would you rather clean up all your toys? Your choice."

Duh. Of course she takes a bath, and she believes it was her decision. Ah, the peace it maintains in the toddler's home!

But Clara is now calling us out on it. She is immediately suspicious of any options we present her and begins to calculate a third way. When we present her choices, she is now saying no to both of them and inserting her own preference. When it calls for an either/or - you can have this one or that one - and she wants both, she says "all."

These tricks are not easy to come by. When, Clara, when will you cut us a break?

Some shorter notes on the previous month...

• December has been the month of the unrelenting cold, complete with deep sleep-disrupting cough and perpetual runny nose. She initially screamed at the sight of the tissue, but after we made it a practice to show her the fruit of her wipes (boogers and snot for those not following my attempt at discretion) she is quick to volunteer "Clara's nose is running."
• If there were a top ten list of Clara's fits, there would be three from December that made the cut. All were at Ga and Pappaw's house for our Christmas visit. And each came when we pushed her a little too hard without a nap. She reminded us of the temper we saw during several of our early attempts at sleep training. Luckily, we're pretty sure of the source and think we can cut them off by sticking close to her nap routines.
• Clara loves going to Trader Joe's and pushing the baby cart around. When Dada is on grocery duty, she gets full run of the store as we pile as much as we can into her little red cart. Most women ooh and ahh when they see how intent she is with her shopping (head down while pushing, the occasional stop to inspect items for the cart, pretending to check out the goods on an open counter saying "beeeeep" as she swipes them across her make-believe scanner). There are some curmudgeons that get annoyed by it. Dada has choice words for them that have no place on a family blog.

Pennsylvania Christmas

Who would have thunk it? Our families in Alabama and Georgia have a white Christmas while we see almost no snow on the ground in Pennsylvania. Someone call the Drudgereport. Me thinks we have definitive proof to blow this whole global warming hoax. Who needs to measure the ice caps when the Weather Channel gives you this data?

But Lock Haven did not disappoint, bringing plenty of cold weather. Paul and Kate have the wind burns to prove it from their multiple early-morning runs on the dike levy. The breeze really whips around the banks of the Susquehanna River on December mornings. 

We had a blast, and yet again Santa loaded us up with enough loot to justify building a new wing on Dryden Manor in Raleigh. Now, we head down to the deep South for Christmas number two!  No snow coming down now...we'll take the 60 degree weather!

Christmas

Papaw Ted was awake at 4:30, he the most eager to start the Christmas morning festivities. And while he toiled away downstairs lighting the tree, cuing the Christmas music, and stoking the fire, Clara snored peacefully in her crib. For the past several days, this same girl would not sleep past 5:00 am. But on the morning so carefully choreographed for her maximum elation, she let the clock tick and tock while Ted anticipated her excited descent down the staircase. 

5:15...5:30...5:45...6:00...6:05. Finally! She stirs. She shouts for Mama. And then she takes her time freshening up her diaper and pokying around upstairs. But at 6:20 Clara is ready for her entrance.

At the top of the stairs her Dada mentions that Santa came last night, just as promised. Clara stiffens up, her eyes wide, and reaches for the nearest adult to clutch. Much as our previous visits with Santa, a kind of catatonic trance overtakes her. She is entirely hushed and clings tightly to Paul as they creep down the steps. 

First, she sees the plate of cookie crumbs and an emptied glass of milk along with a note from Kris himself. She touches the plate gently. Evidence. Still, no words. She's taking it in.

Next, she surveys the loot. It is abundant. Santa is good. The stocking is bursting from its seams. Still, she is silent.

Then she sees that one thing she has requested time and again with each Santa encounter. Doll Baby. It sits in a doll-sized potty under the Christmas tree. Perhaps, she seems to be thinking, there is something to this Santa fellow after all. She trots Doll Baby around for all to admire.  But still she is mute.

Finally, she goes back to the tree and picks up the Doll Baby potty and she is ready for her first words for her first Christmas (well, the first during which she is aware)..."potty."  Yes, potty. Two minutes of silence in the face of a glut of gifts, nearly all of them much more exciting than this Baby Doll accessory. And she says potty. 

That's our girl. She does it on her terms. Granted, this loosened things up. She was now ready to partake in a bender of wrapping paper destruction and toy consumption. This child is loved by Santa Claus and his minions!

Clara works hard the next hour or two, partaking of treats from the stocking, kissing the growing pile of Elmo paraphernalia, demonstrating her maternal nature while caring for her new Doll Baby (which she had named "Jackie" well in advance of receiving it), and playing kitchen with her new food sets.  

Ahhh....life is good. 

And as should be expected, no child (or grandfather) can endure such wonder for long. Soon it overwhelms the senses and requires a good Christmas afternoon nap.  They oblige the urge together, collapsing on the couch for a winter snooze. You can see the sugarplum fairies dancing through their dreams.

Merry Christmas our sweet little Clara!

Friends & Family in Pennsylvania

We had a few extra days in Lock Haven this year for Christmas, giving us a chance to visit with so many Pennsylvania friends and family. The Cruse family came over one night. We got to see Aunt Jeannie and Uncle John at the coffee shop. Uncle Sid and Aunt Kay came over from State College for dinner. And Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Betsy made the trip down from Warwick, NY for their own Griswold Family Christmas tree adventure and ended up indulging Clara with her multiple requests for the Jingle Bell Rock dance!

Christmas at Home

Before heading out to Pennsylvania, the Drydens enjoyed their own private Christmas at home. Clara is beginning to suspect her parents have some dirt on Santa given the number of times he seems to show up with presents in advance of his official date. Maybe we do, Clara. Maybe we do.

Kate couldn't believe her early-Christmas fortune! How could her husband top last year's gift of ever-romantic Pyrex? Well he did. Yes, this year it was a Black & Decker Dustbuster. You know...that thing all the ladies have been hoping for this season. The females all swoon, wishing they had such thoughtful husbands.

Not to be outdone, Kate gets Paul a new pair of wool socks. Modeled here by a snotty-nosed Clara.

Who says the passion is gone by the fifth year of marriage? Never!

Kiawah 1/2 Marathon 2010

The day before the race, Kate made the dreaded statement "Luckily, it never rains for the half-marathon." Cue storm clouds 30 minutes prior to the start. Cue 40 degree temperature. Cue spitting mist and pelting raindrops for the next two hours. And yes, those were the conditions for our stroll this year across the island of Kiawah.

We managed a good run nonetheless. Despite lackluster training for the race, Paul eked out a personal best 1:45 finishing time. Kate had the same, though hers was a good nine minutes slower than her own best record. (Perhaps this had something to do with Paul spending the first several miles begging his wife to slow down for him.)

Paul found a little kick in the last 15 yards and, true to form, tried desperately to pull away from his wife (yes, he is that low a person to try it after holding Kate back for the previous 13.09 miles). She had none of it and matched him stride for stride.

Keeping with our tradition, we met Katie & George (with Emma and Baby George in tow) and Beth & Michael (with Mary Hall). In the five years we've done this together, the couples have evolved from dating to married to "with children." While the dynamics change (e.g. we spend slightly less time sipping bloody marys in the Sanctuary with toddlers around...they run much too quickly for the three story grand staircase!), the fun stays the same.

As a side note, Clara is obsessed with four-month-old baby George. She met him a couple months ago at the beach where she gave him one little blue bunny lovie and insisted on having another for herself. She named hers "Baby George." She distinguishes between the two by calling one the "real" Baby George.

Santa Claus, The Hero

Despite our best attempts, nine-month old Clara showed scant interest in the Great Bearded One last Christmas season. But once she sat on his lap during our Pennsylvania visit (well, via Kate, acting as the lap-sitting surrogate), her curiosity was piqued.

Though the holiday had passed, Clara couldn't get enough of Santa books and Christmas talk throughout January and February. It bordered on obsession. Indeed, while the monkey sound was among her first "words", Santa's "ho-ho-ho" was quick to follow.

It came as no surprise then when she jumped into this Santa Season with much elan. We've been listening to Christmas music since Thanksgiving (Jingle Bell Rock is her favorite, and we've managed to lock ourselves into a Wilson Phillips version of it), and she hangs on every mention of Santa Claus. We read Christmas books before bed each night. While just weeks ago she had been insisting we draw etch-a-sketch renderings of Elmo, she now demands Santa. As mentioned previously, she says he has a special seat in front of the Christmas tree and she pretends to feed him cookies and milk. Hardly an hour passes in the day without mention of the man.

As a nearly-two-year-old, she is in the throngs of Santa hero worship. We expect next year it will hit its apex of deity fill-in, but for now there's no connection between Santa and moral actions (you better not shout, you better not pout, you better not cry because...HE'S WATCHING YOUR EVERY MOVE...and there will be consequences!). We're glad to forestall that as long as possible.

Kate brought Clara to North Hills where Santa keeps office hours each Saturday and Sunday in December. We were entertained when the incessant Santa talk was frozen in a near-catatonic stupor the moment she was in the Great Bearded One's presence. She blushed, dug her snot-encrusted nose into Mama's shoulder, and was entirely unresponsive to suggestions she sit on his lap. (Heroes are so much easier to admire from afar.)

Kate managed to get her in the same chair as Santa for a quick picture. When he asked what she wanted for Christmas, Clara was rendered mute. Mama suggested a "doll baby", to which Clara nodded her head compliantly. Somehow Kate did manage to facilitate a quick high-five between our daughter and her hero, so there was the briefest of physical contact.

The encounter has only swelled Clara's obsession. She now talks about visiting Santa Claus at his house. She brags about giving him high-five. And though she had zero interest in it prior to her mother's heat of the moment suggestion, she now insists that all she wants for Christmas is a "dolly baby."

Early Christmas

Clara loves playing with miniature kitchen sets, and Kate has been on the look-out for months to find the right one to give her for Christmas. When she found one last week, we knew we couldn't wait until actual Christmas day to let Clara play with it.

For about two weeks now, Clara's preferred night-night book has been a Mary Engelbreit illustrated version of The Night Before Christmas. She's very into St. Nick this year. After reading it last night we told Clara that we heard Santa would be making a practice run through the neighborhood, getting all the logistical wrinkles ironed out before the big day. She liked that idea.

At 6.00 this morning, about two and a half hours after she woke up (cold...cough...ugh), we unleashed her into the living room, eager for her reaction.

I think we can say we learned something about Clara's personality. We know she loves these kitchen toys. We know she was excited to see what Santa brought. Yet she walked unhurriedly to the new object and gave it a stoic glance. Slowly and methodically, she started opening the doors, looking into each of the pots, and turning the knobs. There was no squeal of joy, and the smile only developed after she played with it for a few minutes.

This is a measured and (perhaps) skeptical young one. She does not allow the excitement of others to determine her own emotional response. Clara is going to take it in for herself first and decide what it means to her.

While that might disappoint parents looking for the instant gratification of their child's enthusiasm, it seems by and large a good trait to have.

Plus, we took plenty of satisfaction from her mounting excitement as she played with it on and off all morning.

Raleigh's First Snow

A blizzard it wasn't, but our first snow always has the potential to be our only snow. So it is documented for posterity.