the latest victim of a love attack? The mommy!

Clio Grace, P.R. style

Miriam did Clio's hair yesterday.

Glass Half Full

Clio LOVES drinking out of glasses. Mostly she prefers if they are actually made of glass, but at the recent perch babies turn one celebration in prospect park, she went for the plastic kind. This was before she stole Amelia's sippy cup and got her head-cold germs all over it. I guess we should start traveling with one of those...

From the Archive

Our friends Brian recently got software to get his photos out of his cellphone, ans he emailed me the pictures he's taken of Clio over the past year (starting with day 2!) I love that the grainy quality of the photos makes them feel a little hazy, like memories. And I love the way they do in fact bring back moments I wasn't carrying with me: taking Clio to her first Creative Time event, a Michael Rakowitz store opening in October, and to the Printed Matter New York Book Fair at DIA in november. What an arty kid! I love that Brian was so excited to encounter Clio at these events that he took lots of pictures. And I especially love seeing Clio through someone else's eyes- it makes me see her anew.

Happy Father's Day to The Daddy

I notice two things when sifting through our Clio photo archive in celebration of her Dad-
first, that Dave is not in so many of the shots, and when he is, he's often on the outskirts. I wonder if this is in part because he is generally the family photographer and in part because I take terrible pictures. But I also wonder if it is because we girls in his life just expect him to be there, hanging in the background, because for us he always is.

Second, Dave seems to have three main modes with Clio, at least on film:
trying to teach her things, trying to make her look funny (crazy outfits, crazy hair, crazy gimmicks on camera), and quietly contemplating just how awesome and amazing she is. (Actually, he also has a sort of tall proud look he does a lot!)

This is an excellent combination- I believe it means she will grow up curious and adventurous, that she won't take herself too seriously, and that she will always feel tremendously loved and supported.

In a shout-out to my own father, I will mention that he is very much like that in his own job as Dad, and I feel that I'm certainly the better person for it.

Aw, shucks. I'm getting a little teary-eyed.

Because I love them both so much, I had a hard time editing the pictures down...
























The other day Dave turned to me and said, "of all the babies, I'd say Clio is my favorite." Because I sometimes like to one-up, I'll go so far as to say that of all the people, Dave and Clio are just about my favorite two.

the love machine strikes again

Clio's latest victim? Dagwood, a little boy in her music class. Normally Dagwood is decked out in serene little cotton kimono jackets, and Clio doesn't think twice about him; but today, in a nod to father's day, he wore a sonics tank and shorts and Clio attacked. Does she love the jocks already?

Picture the scene: music class, 9:30 am. About a dozen kids and parents sitting cross-legged in a circle. Clio had been sleepy and clingy all class (we missed her nap to come) until the egg rattlers came out. She crawled into the circle where the toddlers were convening, and then right into Dagwood's face. She started tapping his head, then got up on her knee and got her arms tight around his neck. In a flash, she had him on his back so she was half lying on top of him and started, well, basically trying to make out with him. Really, kind of sucking on his face! It was slightly embarrassing (because, you know, where does she learn these things?) but Dagwood seemed unfazed. I pulled her off and got Dagwood to his feet.

"Clio, get a room!" said Kevin, the music teacher.

During the next song, a 4-year old named Brian was dancing around with Kevin, and suddenly his jean shorts were around his ankles. His mother got him put back to together, and we all agreed this class was rated PG-13.

Gimme a break

It occurs to me that I've maybe been a little hard on Clio here on her blog, at least recently; to temper the photos of Clio stealing toys and attacking other kids with hugs (not to mention the poop), here's a roundup of some recent pictures in better moments.

The Curious Case of the Diaper in the Nighttime

All day yesterday I was thinking about a post with this title. Lately, we occasionally hear a strange banging through the monitor, and in the morning we find objects in Clio's crib with her- generally clothing that's sitting on the rocking chair next to the crib. The other day she had a wet diaper in there. To explain this is to expose another example of careless parenting, but what the heck, here goes: we don't have a diaper genie. We don't even have a diaper bucket in Clio's room. This is largely because we started in cloth diapers and maybe we haven't fully admitted that we're not going back. So diapers end up on top of the cloth diaper pail while we're executing the impossible task of changing Clio. sometimes we forget to wrap them up and throw them away.

It's not really such a curious case- we left the diaper out, she reached through the bars, and presto! Icky situation.

But this morning.....
Dave went in to get her, and I heard him make some kind of exclamation- enough to get me worried that something was really, really wrong. As it turns out, Clio was covered in poop. The crib was covered in poop. The crib bars had poopy fingerprints, and the wall had poopy hand prints. A pair of pants from the rocking chair was in the crib with her, and the rocking chair had its own poop trail on the seat.

It reminded me of the first time we took our cats to the vet, when I was about 15. We got a carrier for them, one of those big plastic ones, and on the way home they were so terrified, and - yes- so relieved, that they relieved themselves, and because the carrier was plastic, they slip and slided all over the place, and ended up just covered in their own poop.

So we really did end up with a mysterious case of a diaper in the nighttime. Upon closer examination, Clio's diaper was heavily soiled on the outside; clearly, she took it off at some point in the night, before the pooping began. We have no idea when this occurred, or how long she spent trying to claw her way out of the crib before we got her up.

The funny thing is, she didn't seem too bothered by any of this until we got her into the bath, at which point she clung to me like there was no tomorrow.

When I get home tonight I'll post the picture we had the good sense to take of a smiling Clio, before we washed the poop off her face.

Spooning

When I sat Clio down at the table this morning, she looked at me and said "nanana." So i gave her a banana. First word? It would make sense- this girl is crazy for bananas. I foolishly tried to eat one in front of her a week or two ago, and the response was so visceral I ended up giving her a piece, even though she was just sitting on the floor. She took a bite, then proceeded to crawl around, thereby smashing the wet banana into the floor- and then continued to eat it.

But that was two weeks ago. Now, Clio is getting quite sophisticated at the table, even experimenting with a spoon. As you can see from the state of the table, she's experimenting with oatmeal as fingerpaint, too.

It's a Sign

This morning, after finishing her bottle, Clio looked at me and made the sign for "eat." Considering how much food this kid can put away (she out-ate Dave and I at breakfast again, and every day when I pick her up, Miriam says "she eat a LOT!"), this one should come in handy. After several courses, we have a hard time believing she wants "more" (the other sign in her repertoire); now she'll have two ways to let us know that yes, it's true.

Zuzu, the birthday girl

Semantics

Clio experienced her first birthday party this weekend, in celebration of Zuzu, one of the Perch Babies. It was a really lovely backyard affair, with big beach balls for each of the kids, and lots of toys to "share." Clio does not like to share. she likes to offer you a toy and, when you try to take it, decide she'd like to keep it for herself. Also, like most babies her age, (and men, for that matter), she covets whatever her neighbor might have. Surprisingly, we heard over and over what a "sweet little girl" she is. Often from parents of the other toddlers. Often from parents of the other toddlers while Clio was stealing those toddlers' toys.

Watching Clio do a full sweep of the blanket, I found myself wondering, are they confused? Perhaps when they say "sweet," they really mean "cute"? After all, on a humid day she does have ringlets that have been called "cherubic." And she does smile a lot, and laugh at people's jokes. We can agree that she is one cute kid.

In order to help sort things out (and being, on occasion, not so gracious with compliments), I might offer other word choices. "She can be pretty willful," I'll say. "Oh, she's just independent- that's good!" Is a common response. When I say that she can be a little, well, aggressive, I'm reminded of my friend Tim's dog Sadie, a beautiful and petite yellow lab that everyone always wanted to pet. "She's not friendly," Tim would say with a smile- and clenched teeth. Clio is friendly- but it's true that she can be surprisingly willful, and yes, even aggressive, for one who, at first glance, might look a little sweet.

Don't believe me? Well, there were so many pictures of her hoarding toys, it was hard to choose the best ones:

A two-handed maneuver:


Taking on two at once...
And how about this sequence: She's got her eye on Henry's toy...(Note the toy Isaac is playing with behind her)

Captured...
Discarded, and onto Isaac's.


Oh, Clio. As Olivia would say, We love you anyway.