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.