claycomb twins

First of all, the license plate refers to the CAR. Sheesh.

Lilah spent the weekend with her beloved cousin Jenna earlier this month, and this shot was taken then. There is another, very cute one of them in the car head-on, grinning like mad-women, but I like this one, while at the same time finding it terrifying. Are there wine coolers in the trunk of that thing? Itsy-bitsy bikinis? Cell phones with boys' phone numbers on them? Where are they headed anyway, and who gave that girl a license?

Posted by at 11:41 PM | Permalink

First of all, no, he is not wearing pants (Jim Morrison didn't, why should Collin?)

Second, a story: Ryan and Collin dance vigorously to some music (the B-52's) on a Saturday morning. Tables are pushed aside, a rug is cut, hands are thrown in the air like no one cares. Winded, Ryan suggests that they switch gears and color instead, and he steers Collin to the table.

Climbing into his seat, Collin pauses, looks at Ryan. "Daddy," he says, "my heart feels like it still wants to dance."

So they do.

Posted by at 11:38 PM | Permalink

This is currently one of my favorite photos of Lilah, because it reveals a new element of our little girl. She has recently discovered a new way to claim adult attention (besides bossing people around, talking in an almost inaudibly high-pitched "baby animal" voice, screaming at the top of her lungs . . . ). This new thing is that she can be funny. She was sitting at breakfast with us and suddenly got down from her seat, picked up this paper towel roll, and declared: "I'm little old Lilah," and began to hobble away. When we both cracked up, she looked not oly delighted, but amazed, and so of course happily repeated her performance for the camera.

Other new developments with Lilah, some good, others about which I am downright ambivalent:

After a visit with Mom-Mom and Pappy, she returned home and I was suddenly "Mom," not "Mommy." I do not blame the grandparents for this . . . but wow, I wish I'd gotten the memo! I feel like I'm suddenly parenting a teenager, which means I'm suddenly 45 . . .

Today in the car Lilah announced that, although Ryan and I were already married, we had not yet fallen "into" love with each other. "But sweetie," I said, "when will we?"

"Oh, I don't know. Not yet."

Hmmm . . . is Electra (and her associated complex) rearing her pretty little head?

Posted by at 9:16 PM | Permalink

Yes, there he is: Collin, in his "Dancing Suit," which he will wear for Unca Paul and Unca (Auntie) Nette's wedding this July. I was worried when the suit arrived in the mail that he would hate it, because it is so stiff and heavy and not at all what he's used to wearing. But Ryan took him back to his room (some sort of "first suit" ritual between father and son, I presume) and a few minutes later a very small, blond person emerged, beaming from ear to ear and reminding me of Robert Duvall as Consigliere in The Godfather movies.

Boy, is he excited.

Of course, this picture (and the next one that I hope to post of Collin) offers the perfect opportunity to reflect on the gender role messages he's getting now that he's going to school. He doesn't want to wear a flower in his button-hole at the wedding because "boys don't wear flowers" and he no longer wants to do ballet (even though he LOVES the moves of balletic dancing) because "boys can only do rock and roll dancing."

We've pulled out some books with pictures of Nureyev and Nijinsky in them, and discussed how much Daddy likes flowers, but he's not buying it. Of course, perhaps I share some blame in all this too. I've been SO resistant to letting them get attached to name brands (No SpongeBob in my house!!) and gender stereotypes, but as anyone who knows me well knows, I am obsessed with Batman (the dark, brooding Batman of Frank Miller strips and *Arkham Asylum*, not Adam West battling Cesar Romero.) So when Collin started asking about Batman and what his powers were (I also love that Batman has no superpowers, just works out and uses his wits and gadgets), who the villians were, etc., I responded VERY positively.

Needless to say, the boy now owns a Batman hat, 2 identical Batman shirts, Batman flip-flops, a Batman backpack . . . and it's all, every bit of it, my fault.

Sigh. At least in this suit he's more Bruce Wayne than anything else.

Posted by at 9:06 PM | Permalink

Yes, there he is: Collin, in his "Dancing Suit," which he will wear for Unca Paul and Unca (Auntie) Nette's wedding this July. I was worried when the suit arrived in the mail that he would hate it, because it is so stiff and heavy and not at all what he's used to wearing. But Ryan took him back to his room (some sort of "first suit" ritual between father and son, I presume) and a few minutes later a very small, blond person emerged, beaming from ear to ear and reminding me of Robert Duvall as Consigliere in The Godfather movies.

Boy, is he excited.

Of course, this picture (and the next one that I hope to post of Collin) offers the perfect opportunity to reflect on the gender role messages he's getting now that he's going to school. He doesn't want to wear a flower in his button-hole at the wedding because "boys don't wear flowers" and he no longer wants to do ballet (even though he LOVES the moves of balletic dancing) because "boys can only do rock and roll dancing."

We've pulled out some books with pictures of Nureyev and Nijinsky in them, and discussed how much Daddy likes flowers, but he's not buying it. Of course, perhaps I share some blame in all this too. I've been SO resistant to letting them get attached to name brands (No SpongeBob in my house!!) and gender stereotypes, but as anyone who knows me well knows, I am obsessed with Batman (the dark, brooding Batman of Frank Miller strips and *Arkham Asylum*, not Adam West battling Cesar Romero.) So when Collin started asking about Batman and what his powers were (I also love that Batman has no superpowers, just works out and uses his wits and gadgets), who the villians were, etc., I responded VERY positively.

Needless to say, the boy now owns a Batman hat, 2 identical Batman shirts, Batman flip-flops, a Batman backpack . . . and it's all, every bit of it, my fault.

Sigh. At least in this suit he's more Bruce Wayne than anything else.

Posted by at 9:06 PM | Permalink

Yes, well, this isn't exactly the most photogenic the boy has ever been, but this is a telling picture of life with Collin these days. He is often a dinosaur (he came out of his bedroom a few nights ago LONG after bed-time with the rather flimsy excuse of having not been able to fasten his triceratops hat under his chin), which entails much VERY LOUD roaring and the making of claws. An amused mother at our swimming lessons heard him, flinched (he is really very, very loud), and said, "My, he's excited!"

No, really. He's like this all the time.

When he is not a dinosaur, he is a fireman, a football player, a baseball player, and a knight.

In the previous entry, I promised more on the endless questions that are part of creative play and/or storytelling these days. Most of these are from Collin, who is physically incapable of not vocalizing for more than 2 minutes at time while he is awake. A sampling, taken from perhaps the first two minutes of a story:

What Sir Ancelot [sic] doing?
Why he doing that?
What a lance?
Swords are sharp, you can't use that, only on bad things.
Is that monster mean?
Why he a knight?
Why he have that helmet?
What jousting mean?
But that bad, that dangerous, you might hurt someone.
I could be a knight----ROARRRRRRR!!
Why he have that feather on his hat?
Why he look mad?
Are those other knights mean?
Fighting is bad, you shouldn't fight. That's hitting.
I like Sir Ancelot.

Posted by at 8:50 PM | Permalink

Hello everyone! It's now mid-February and I have officially abandoned my ambitious plans to have blog posts about all of the following things: Christmas, my car accident and broken arm woes, time spent with Unca Paul and Net, the wonders of a snowy day, time with Erin . . .

The sad truth is that if I don't just update you NOW on things, I never will. So here is some news about Lilah. As you can see, she is as unappealing a child as ever (!) She is also refining her skills in the arena of domination and seems quite intent on becoming a doctor (which, yes, involves asking fully-grown adults who have foolishly agreed to be her patients to lie down on their backs and put their feet in the air so she can pantomime a rectal temperature.) If she does not pursue this career herself, she intends to become a "patient instructor," those long-suffering souls who allow medical students to perform various exams on them for training purposes. In Lilah's case, you may be sure that no body part will be left unexamined, whether it is her eyes (check for lurking tiny horses), her ears, or her feet, which sometimes need medicine to "feel them better."

We've also entered the realm of more imaginative play and storytelling, to my mingled delight and chagrin (I get to tell all my Robin Hood and Sir Lancelot stories now, but also have to explain A LOT. More on that in a subsequent post.) In any case, listening to "The Siamese Cat Song" from Disney's *Lady and the Tramp* prompted questions about the cats, so I told the whole story of the film. Lilah is now fascinated with the "Mean Science Cats" and demands frequent tales of their nefarious doings.

Which reminds me: I need to go teach her the word nefarious now.

Posted by at 8:42 PM | Permalink