Super Self Feeder & Other Tales

Yesterday we started Clara on dairy. As you all should know (if not read here), Clara showed sensitivity to dairy when she was a couple of months old. As a result, she has been on a dairy-free diet. The doctors told us to re-introduce dairy at a year, as she should have outgrown the sensitivity. After a lot of research and reading the experiences of babies with similar sensitivities, Kristin decided to start with yogurt. On Dairy Day 1 Clara wasn't a huge fan of yogurt, but she ate some and appears fine, i.e. no hives or external reactions. We're going to keep a close eye to make sure we don't have a reaction like we did in February.

On Dairy Day 2, today, Clara decided to eat the yogurt but to do it her way, meaning to feed herself with her own spoon. Seeing her feed herself she looks like such a big girl. Where did my little baby go?

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At dinner tonight Kristin and I each had a soda to drink. With her new-found skills, we decided to give Clara a taste of our sodas. Kristin was drinking Diet Coke; I, Sprite Zero. Kristin went first. Clara drew from the straw, getting a normal mouthful, swallowed, and made the funniest face I've ever seen. Something along the lines of, "WHAT IN THE SAM HOCKEY STICKS WAS THAT?" We both cracked up and I said, "My turn, my turn!" I offered Clara my straw. One suck, two sucks. Nothing. Then she drew a little harder and got a mouthful of Sprint Zero. Faster reaction, same face and instead of swallowing, she spit the soda out of her mouth, down the front of her shirt. Kristin observed, "Looks like this one's going to be a Diet Coke girl."

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Each night after bathtime it is my job to get Clara ready for bed. And each night it is a struggle to get a diaper on, apply lotion to her arms and legs, get her in a onesie, and finally in her footy pajamas. I usually close the door to the nursery so she can't escape. Unfortunately, this does not stop her from crawling around the nursery to explore every nook and cranny.

Kristin's job after bathtime is to make Clara's bottle then come upstairs. Usually once Clara is dressed we immediately move into the story-song-scripture routine and I pass Clara off to Kristin for a bottle and bed. For whatever reason, tonight we sat in the nursery talking and Clara went exploring. She started in the far corner of the nursery, behind the rocking chair, and made her way around the room to the door. That's when it happened.

Clara likes to figure things out. Lately, she has taken to sitting in front of her baby gate and systematically trying different approaches to get it open. She knows that she has to get the bottom piece out of its socket in order to open the hardware-mounted gates. With pressure-mounted gates she's realized that you pull up on the handle on top and will crawl over to the gate and reach up for the handle, trying to recreate the behavior she's seen.

So when she crawled over near the door to her bedroom, Kristin asked, "I wonder how long until she figures out how to open doors?" As if she understood exactly what her mother was saying, Clara stands up and starts reaching for the door handle. Little feet on tiptoe, fingers grasping at the handle, she caught and pulled the handle down once or twice, not yet realizing that she has to stop pushing on the door in order to pull it open. Did she give up? Our determined, strong-willed little one? Of course not.

"Look at her! She's systematically approaching the door in different ways to see what she has to do to get it open." These words had barely crossed the threshold of Kristin's lips when those small, determined little fingers caught the handle, pulled it down, then pulled the door open. We sat staring at each other in awe and fear. Awed by our tenacious little engineer and fearful for what the future holds.

After a few minutes of the two of us laughing, and laughing, and laughing - in that slightly uncomfortable laugh you make when it's both funny and SO NOT FUNNY - Kristin says in a flat tone: "Time to go buy door locks."