The original heroine of our story is our girl Clare.  She’s officially 3.5 now, and is every inch the opinions, drama, imagination, and fun that comes with this age.  It’s such an intense age, where every emotion is felt deeply, every joy is met with squeals, and every frustration and disappointment is met with screams.  There is so much in life to cause joy and frustration.  Driving on a bridge over boats on a river is a joy.  Watching squirrels is a joy.  Hersheys kisses for dessert is a joy.  Hearing the garage door that means Daddy is home is a joy.  Oh the squeals we hear, the songs, the dances, the delight that Clare has with life.  Joie de vivre. 

And frustration?  I won’t go into detail except to say that while tantrums aren’t routine they aren’t unknown either.  She’s reached new levels of volume, stamina and energy to express her disappointment.  I’m hopeful that this phase passes quickly.

But back to joy.  Clare swings on the big kid swings now, pumping and everything.  She doesn’t walk if she can skip.  She sings all the time.  She’s growing long and lanky, so she’s a whirling dervish of arms and legs. 

I want to preface this, and all other posts about arts and craft,s with the statement that I’m not especially crafty.  There are plenty of very artistic, creative and crafty people out there who can paint, sculpt, sew and create.  I’m not one of them.  Construction paper, finger paint, Elmer’s glue, and contact paper are my speed, which is perfect for my toddler crowd. 

So our fun arts and crafts projects for the past few weeks have been Valentine related.  Stained glass hearts, paintings that were cut into hearts, coloring on hearts, gluing the painted and crayon-colored hearts to construction paper cards, writing messages of love, and finally mailing the valentines to the grandparents. 

Blogging has been slow around these parts because, well… everything has been slow.  Winter illnesses have hit us with a vengeance.  In the past few weeks each family member has been struck down to bed for at least 24 hours with various combinations of stomach ailments, fevers, colds, and other issues.  This is beyond the usual winter runny noses and coughs that we always have, so we’re pretty much a house of illness these days with no end in sight. 

This picture has nothing to do with the post… but it’s cute.

I guess the upside is that none of us were hit with the worst of the worst at the same time.  I was struck in bed on a Monday, J on a Wednesday, Sammy on a Saturday and then Clare on the following Monday.  It was quick succession, we fell like dominos, one of us getting up again to take care of the next fallen one.  I know better then to think that we’re done with sickness.  Hopefully this will be our only incidents of stomach ailments (please cross your fingers and toes) but I’m keeping us stocked in tissue, children’s ibuprofen and vicks vaporub just in case.

Poor Clarie had it the worst of any of us… she literally spent most of one day draped across Jeremy’s chest with her head on his shoulder.  This picture was taken on Day 2 of her illness, about two minutes after I took this picture she put her head on the table and said “Mama?  Can I just go to sleep?”  Fortunately she’s back to normal now.

There will be many posts about wistfulness to write, for now I’m going to post about my son’s development and 15-month-old self.  I’ll miss this age soon enough too.

Sammy’s New Words that we understand:
“Ball!”
“Bay-bee”
“Ni-Night”
“Myyyy” (Mine)
“Gam-Pa” Grandpa
“Hiiiiii”
“Buh” (Book)

Sammy continues to climb on *everything* in sight.  He gets himself into some serious trouble – falling off the couch, climbing onto the stove and touching a hot pot, rolling down half a flight of stairs – and while he stops my heart on a regular basis he has a way of brushing himself off and getting back up again that is admirable.  He’s also born with J’s natural coordination.  I’m in awe that Sammy can fall backwards off the couch and rather than land flat on his back he somehow twists in the air, tucks his head in, and lands so that he rolls onto his tummy.  It’s really amazing, especially since I’m such a klutz that I couldn’t do something like that if I was trained by an Olympic gymnastics coach.  Athleticism is truly something that a person is born with, and our Sammy seems to have been born with it.  It’s going to be interesting to see what he wants to do with it.

We’re into hard-core labeling around here.  Sammy walks through the house pointing at things and saying “da?”  It’s a cat, a spoon, a car, an elbow, a picture frame, a sister, socks, the letter W, a hot cup of tea, wasabi, etc. etc. etc…  Sam’s entering the world of language, starting with nouns.