Chapter Fifty-Six: Christmas Eve

                                    

                                          
Grace (Mama) POV:
                          
Clara's crawling around our little Christmas tree. She keeps taking the ornaments off of it and handing them to one of us. I'm handed another ornament. This one is the one of Clara's handprints. "Thank you, princess." I say for the millionth time.
                          
Tonight is our Christmas Eve and Clara's been hyper all day. We explained Santa to her a week ago and ever since then she's been wanting to meet him. Tonight's that night. Atticus is off getting dressed in his Santa outfit that we made with Dechen's help. It's just Clara, Calisto, and I chilling in the living room right now. "Daddy!" Clara squeals.
                          
She has a block in her hand and is crawling towards Calisto. She pulls herself into a standing position using Calisto's legs, then throws the block on his lap. She drops back down onto the ground and repeats this process until all twenty-four blocks are on Calisto's lap. "Yayyyy! Cwara 'id it!" 
                          
I have no idea what she did but I'm proud of her. Clapping my hands along with her I say, "Yes, you did do it. Good job, princess!" 
                          
Calisto does the same and Clara drops back down to the floor. She crawls to the corner of the room and grabs her baby doll. One of the presents we bought for Clara was a little toy crib for her dolls. Her favorite thing to do is play Mommy with her dollies, so we thought her doll should have a crib.
                          
"Mama, 'Anta comin. Bwing Cwara pwesant." Clara explains to me from across the room. She's so cute, she has on a red onesie that has little Christmas trees on it. Her chunky thighs are sticking out along with the edges of her diaper. 
                          
We had to custom order that one. It arrived right on time for Christmas. "Yes, Santa's coming to bring you a present." I explain again.
                          
Atticus is going to bring one present for Clara tonight. It's a new dolly and I can't wait for her reaction. Clara crawls back towards the Christmas tree and that's when I stand up. "I'm going to grab her play pen. I'll be right back." Calisto nods at me and I rush out of the room and into Clara's nursery.
                          
Throwing open the doors to her closet, I grab the collapsable playpen, and carry it back into the living room. I set it up in the corner then throw her blocks in there. Clara's trying to destroy the Christmas tree again so I lift her up and place her in the play pen. "Play in here, princess." I tell her.
                          
She whines a little bit and I place a blanky and her dolly in there as well. "There, do you want your baba." 
                          
"Yesth, pease." Clara nods her head and I grab her bottle off the coffee table and hand it to my little girl. She smiles at me and slips the nipple of the bottle in her mouth.
                          
"Tank chu, Mama." Clara mumbles.
                          
"You're welcome, baby." Turning around, I walk back to Calisto and plop down next to him on the couch. He wraps his arm around my back and I cuddle into his side while we watch Clara play.
                          
She pops the bottle out of her mouth and offers it to her dolly. "Chu dwink chur mwilky." Clara tells her doll while she crams the nipple of the bottle against it's mouth. 
                          
An amused smile takes over Calisto's face and he let's out a little chuckle. "She's wasting her milk." He whispers in my ear.
                          
"There's plenty more where that came from." I whisper back.
                          
Clara snatches the bottle away from her doll and tosses it to the side. She grabs her blanket and puts it over her shoulder, then lifts her dolly up. My precious little girl proceeds to slam her hand down on the dolls back. Not gentle either. I'm talking about hard smacks. 
                          
A laugh escapes my mouth and Clara turns to me and smiles. "Gib Cwara a bwurp." She tells the dolly, imitating her Daddies deep voices. 
                          
This just shows how much Clara picks up on what's going on around her. She's copying what's done to her, minus the horrible burping technique. "Did your baby burp yet?" I ask.