More changes

Claire is more than 17 months old and quickly growing into her own (and out of her clothes). Over the past three weeks, particularly the first part of April, she changed in subtle, yet significant, ways, all of which added up to be quite noticeable. She has gone from observer to asserter, copier to creator, dependent to intuitive. Her facial expressions are more numerous and complex. She casts furtive and skeptical looks as if she were an adult. She has expanded her communicative vocabulary exponentially, merely through the use of her new glances.



She's putting two and two together. Many times she gets 3.7. But who's counting? This week, Sarah drove her to her friend Jude's house. Before they even reached Jude's driveway, Claire started saying his name aloud. Then, with no cue from mom, she added, "Hwwiiiiiinnnng." That's Claire for "Swing." That's what they do when they go to Jude's.



She has started recounting events from memory. Last weekend I took her to the park without Sarah. When we got home, Claire walked into the room where mom was standing and said "Ot-tide" (Outside) and then she said "Hwwiiiiiiinng." Indeed, we had swung.



She demands more of what she wants. She often points at the stool folded up between the fridge and the counter because she wants us to get it out so she can climb it and watch mom fix dinner or dad make breakfast. She tries to say many more words, though the pronunciations themselves often throw her father for a loop when uttered out of context.

She runs more, though it's more of a duck waddle. She puts her head down and throws her feet out to the side in a half arc as she propels herself forward. I love watching this from behind. She seems intent, a bit lumbering, and yet pleased with herself.



She likes to read. But she really loves playing in the water and dirt and mud and hail (this week) and rocks. "Ot-tide" is her favorite word. Dana, her babysitter, calls her a naturalist.

Her latest thing is to hug other toddlers, some complete strangers, as if they're dear, long-lost friends. She smiles widely and geniunely when she locks them in her bear hug, entertaining any adults that happen to be around and smothering her subjects. She kisses and says "na-nat," waves good bye to people and objects she likes and blows kisses to spiders and worms and my belly button.