Clementine in June
Oakland, 2004




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Clementine is now very active - climbing into, up and back down everything in sight.

 

 

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She's "all mobile style", and has the cutest sneakers!
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During an afternoon walk she discovered some jam-jar tops which fascinated her.

 

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She played with them for 15 minutes... which is almost a whole day in big people time.
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She was careful to keep them with her throughout all other activities - like climbing stairs...
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... giving me tummy raspberries, and poking my belly.

 

 

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In the face of many many toys, the jam-jar lids were giants... at least for a while.
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The long, striped guy is from a store called Nest in SF. I picked him up and then.. just couldn't put him down. Not sure if it's a dog or a cat or what - we named him "Danimal", after a license plate I saw on the highway. Who goes to the DMV and gets a "Danimal" vanity plate???

 

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In addition to climbing stairs (safely - she turns around completely to go down)...

 

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 Clementine can now also entertain herself with books. 

 

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 She turns the pages and points at the animals, and reads to herself in baby language. 

 

 

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 She is also in training for the WWF. 

 

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The rigors of her daily bouts are top secret material, fit only for fellow trainers. 

 

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But you can see she's a formidable opponent, already. Watch out for her low kicks. Deadly! 

 

 

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She's also an amateur botanist

 

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Little escapes her inquisitive eye - or hand (sadly prone to crushing at this stage).

 

 

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While Clementine slept, we discussed her wrestling program over Chinese takeout and wine.

 

 

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Apparently this sordid scene is the result of a farmers' market strawberry extravaganza.

 

 

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Cell phones and cherries were also on the menu.

 

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I believe that this is the cutest baby on the planet, people.

 

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I also believe she is studying to be a mafia don. All she needs is a pinky ring!

 

 

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First, some chicken. Then... let's go for a walk!

 

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Tho, maybe a book before that walk?

 

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Tiny investigates what I bought for Doug in Japantown. Kittens in Fries. Don't ask me, because I  don't get it, either. They also come in burritos and hamburgers, in case you're wondering.

 

 

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Pink means nothing to this baby. She's all about texture, and dirt!

 

 

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We did eventually go for a walk - looking for her bottle (which she threw from the stroller in a fit of post-strawberry angst or something?). Lo and behold - a kind stranger put it in plain view.

 

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Tiny's hands are so small - but just the right size for cheerios and raisins.

 

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Some beauties along the walk that escaped her mitts.

 

 

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Another development: pushing things. When they do not go where she wants, there are tears.

 

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But nothing a little quality time with a boob (or bottle) can't fix. Happy gnawing, Tiny!!