...it really does seem like yesterday that she was the infant that could only be soothed by a motion we should have trademarked as the "clara,"which I can only best describe as curling one's infant. Picture that.
Those were dark days.
She will turn one in 19 days.
She is still feisty. She screams in happiness. And unhappiness. She is an Olympic Raspberry Blower. She has dimples on her elbows and an umbilical hernia.
She signs and tries to say, "done," which she signed today in the carseat. Which she is still unsure of. You can't restrain this girl.
Ahhhh the curls. Will I always remember how they feel when her head brushes up against my nose?
She has grown into her ears. I know my mom was worried about that.
She walks. Have I mentioned that? She walks. She has been for more than a month. It's a bit frankenstein-ish, but it gets her from Point A to Point B.
She is all up in his business. All up in it.
His patience grows in leaps and bounds every day and for that I am so proud of him (and her, for teaching him how to be a big brother). He likes to hold her now and tries to pick her up. He is trying, so hard, to say her name.
We love you, Clara Louise.