Fear and Loathing in the Bathtub

Not long ago, bath time was a fun and relaxing nightly routine. Claire played with her three little plastic dolphins in the bubbly, warm water. We listened to lazy music and ended up all clean and sleepy for bedtime.

Those days seem to have passed, at least for the moment. Bath time, especially since we moved to the new house in Dallas, has become a stripped down, sometimes frantic, usually unhappy affair. Gone are the bubbles; Claire does not want bubbles any more. And the favorite old "Sleepy" and "Moonlight" playlists that we had gradually worked to perfection on our iPod are no longer welcome; Claire prefers silence. The water is "too hot!" even if it is tepid. She cries and screams when we start the bath water, and she ends up running all over the house, screaming, usually naked, before we scoop her up and make her clean up. She protests, "I'm not dirty! I don't need a bath!" The scene has at times devolved into some of the biggest fits she has ever had. We often just splash her off as she stands in the tub. She ends up going to bed mad and frustrated, but at least sort of clean. Mostly, we are trying to stick somewhat to the routine.

We have asked her why she doesn't like baths, but she does not give us any real answer.  It could be related to potty training, as she has had a couple of "accidents" in the bath, and they freaked her out. Or sometimes it seems like she just does not want to go to sleep, and she knows darn well that bath time means bedtime. She just wants to keep playing, even though she is obviously tired.

Last night, we had a rare fun bath time. We played and splashed and laughed. She was happy as we got her into her pajamas and off to bed. Hopefully this is the start of a trend. All three of us could use some relief from the nightly bath trauma.

The Big Move

I was reviewing the blog, and I realized there was nothing at all posted about the little matter of, oh I don't know... moving half way across the country! You will notice that, besides this post, there is nothing else at all during the actual move. This post was written a couple of months later just to fill in the blanks while I still remembered anything about it.

This was probably some of the most interesting and challenging times in Claire's life so far, but alas, I simply did not have the time/energy to write up anything about the move. The long and short of it was that we did successfully sell our house in Atlanta and move to Dallas.

My dad and I headed out with the big truck a few days ahead of Kit, Claire, and Joyce, with the goal of getting mostly settled in before everyone else got to Dallas. Kit, Claire, and Joyce stayed in a "hotel house", ate Chik-fil-et in the room, and did a little swimming at the pool, all of which Claire talked about for some time afterwards. She would sometimes asks, "When are we going back to the blue house?"

Claire (sort of) saw two new states, Mississippi and Louisiana, on the trip to Dallas.

Here are some quick high- and low-lights of the move, from my perspective. Claire was, by design, not along for most of this.  (I should probably ask Kit to add some additinal comments for when she and Joyce had Claire...)

• Getting more and more behind schedule with the house closing moving around
• A couple of real country folk loading up the Penske 20" truck somewhat sloppily in Atlanta, and Joyce squeezing everything from our storage unit into the last remaining space in the big truck on a very hot late afternoon on Cheshire Bridge Road
  
• Paying something close to a dollar per mile with record-high gas prices all the way to Dallas
• Thinking I really should not be driving this gigantic truck half way across the country, or even around the block. Shouldn't "they" require some sort of training or a license before I get behind the wheel of this monstrosity?
• The formerly road-weary Muffin riding shotgun on a bed of pillows and blankets, and sleeping most of the way.
• Nearly getting lost trying to avoid a traffic jam in Birmingham.
• My dad tailing me in the Accord, although most of the time I could not see him.
  
• Driving endlessly in East Texas as the sun was setting trying to find a hotel where I could realistically park the truck. I called by dad on the cell phone just in time for him to exit at a junky hotel in Longview that did accept big trucks. Menacing guys hung out on picnic chairs outside their rooms, and there was a Days Inn sign sitting wrecked in the woods past the parking lot. My dad remarked "It's not even good enough for Days Inn."
  
• Eating dinner in the outskirts of Longview at some half-deserted catfish restaurant in what seemed to be an office building or warehouse.
• Finally pulling up to the beautiful townhouse in Dallas and waiting for the movers to show up to help unload. They scoffed at how the truck was loaded, and asked who the heck did it like that.
• My mom showing up with Carolyn, Beth, and Worth, not to mention a boat load of drinks and snacks, to help unpack. Beth tripped on the stairs to the lower level, and messed up her ankle pretty good.
• Finally passably moved in that night, me and my parents went out to eat at Taco Cabana... a real Taco Cabana, not that fake one back in Atlanta.
• My mom working her magic on the Claire Club in the cave-like recessed area in the living room. It was beautifully done.
  
• Waiting impatiently for the ladies to arrive!
• Claire and Kit looking around the new place and saying, "Ooohh! Ahhh!" Calire even said, "It's my Christmas day!"
• Claire hopelessly tangling the pom-poms hanging outside the Claire Club. My mom spending an hour or two untangling them. Claire hopelessly tangling them again in minutes.
  

Career Options

Claire is showing distinct interest in a few career fields at this point.

We were recently looking at pictures of the visit we took to the Atlanta History Center  few months ago. This is where Claire manned a pretend fast food drive-through window, chirping "You want a combo?" over and over. These pictures got her going on this game again, but now she is a little more verbose. After accepting her offer of a combo, she'll say something like, "Let me see if I can find a combo." Then she pretends to find a combo and then says, "That's a dollar-eight" with a big smile on her face. You can always settle up with two pennies, which is the flat cost of any transaction with Claire. This may not be a well-paying line of work, but she does seem to enjoy it.

Her other perennial favorite is being a doctor. Now she puts on a whole show. She'll come up to you and furrow her brow to look real concerned and say, "You hurt your knee?" After establishing that your knee is hurt, she invents some way to treat it. Her methods involve pressing a random toy against the affected area, rubbing it with her hands, or kissing it. Then she proudly says, "You're all better!" and scurries off to find another knee to heal. She seems to be a knee specialist, I guess because they work well for her height.

Claire used to have a real stethoscope, donated to her from her mom. But now, much to her dismay, it is missing. She is always looking for it and asking me and her mom if we have seen it. She likes to use it as part of her examination, listening carefully to our knees, and sometimes to our shoulders if we are sitting down on the floor. Our knees and shoulders sometimes say, "Mommy, mommy, mommy" or "Daddy, daddy, daddy" slow and steady like a heartbeat. She has also been know to treat a bad knee by pressing her stethoscope against it with just the right touch.

Other interests, practiced less often but just as passionately, include being a sailor, a pirate, a singer, a dancer, or a comedian who does a "dumb guy" schtick with a funny slow voice. She has yet to show real interest in my field, computers, unless it involves watching videos of herself on the iMac.

Striking Out On Her Own

Claire and I had this conversation in the car today, perhaps inspired by talk of the move to Texas.

Claire: Daddy, I'm moving to my own house.
Me: Oh really? Wow! (feigning belief) How big is the house?
Claire: Big enough, Daddy! Big enough!

She sounded pretty serious.

Comfy

Today Claire was making her usual proclamations, such as "Muffin is furrrrry!" or "Cheese is yummy!" when I picked her up and held her in my left arm. After a few seconds, she said, "You're comfy, Daddy."

Besides feeling a little bit like a sofa, I couldn't ask for a better compliment.

I want Grace!

Claire has been going to Grace during the day for over two years now. She loves Grace like another mom, and she is often upset to leave Grace at the end of the day. But once she gets home, Claire knows she is with her own family and does not ask for Grace.

Recently, however, with only about one month left in Atlanta before we move to Texas, Claire has occasionally started saying things at home like, "I miss Grace!" or "I want Grace!". This is strange timing. We have not actually talked to Claire yet about moving, as it is supposed to be too early for a kid her age to understand. But maybe she is picking up on some subtle clues anyways. Maybe these kids are smarter than they act.

Ant!

Claire has a history of being rather scared of ants. Sometimes we would sit on the white-painted wooden steps in front of the house, playing or just hanging out. On those bright white steps, a little tiny ant showed up easily, and Claire never seemed to miss one. She would yell, "annnnttt!" and frantically scramble up or down the steps, away from the minuscule intruder. Eventually her fear was moderated, and she would generally just avoid any ants she saw, gradually with less and less trepidation.

Now it is the ants who should be afraid.

Tonight Claire noticed a little ant crawling on the table during dinner. She said in a loud but not panicked voice, "ant!" Kit and I, out of habit, were reassuring her it was not going to hurt her, and there was nothing to be afraid of, as the ant crawled closer to her plate. Claire kept staring at it intensly, and then -- whack! -- she brought her hand up and down quickly and smashed the ant on the table. The fierce strike immediately stopped the ant, and Claire went back to eating her pizza.

I was a little horrified, actually. I don't normally squash insects unless they are really being a nuisance. I am not sure where Claire even got the idea to smash it; from all the older boys she hangs out with, I guess. Nonetheless, I was also strangely impressed by her power and coordination. Claire normally sort of fumbles with soccer balls and runs around in circles giggling. But this toddler can take care of business if she needs to!