Ya Got Me!

Where he gets these ideas, I'll never know...

Making Faces

The picture speaks for itself:
Claire expresses volumes with a few
simple strokes of the pen.

Whatchoo Lookin' At?

He's a hoot...!

The Year of Living Simply

On, off, on, off: if only everything in life could be so straightforward! Instead of making specific resolutions for the new year, I made a conscious decision to try and live more simply. If that's a broad and far-reaching concept, the steps towards achieving the goal are small: consume less (go to the library instead of buying books we don't have room for anyway), jettison more (James, I'm talking to you, too), don't create extra work (there's enough of that already), look far enough ahead to stay organized, but not so far that I can't enjoy the moment... Simplify, simplify, simplify! What works for you? I'd love to know.

Crabby Girl

Claire discovers the joys of a crab leg dinner

on our last night in Orlando,

while Wynham stabs his steak in the background.

Bubble Boy

I was only gone for fifteen minutes, I swear -- just long enough to take Claire to school -- but when I leave James in charge, I never know what I'll find when I come home. Well, I opened the front door and this is the vision I saw before me: Bubble Wrap Jack.

James is obviously the fun parent... I love the cowl he created to complete the outfit. Maybe he has a future in the fashion industry; perhaps he could get a stint on Project Runway. I don't know where the Clark Kent glasses fit it, but then, I often don't get the punch line (or is it the "POP" line?).

What is it about Bubble Wrap that people can't resist? For the true aficionados, you can even pop virtual Bubble Wrap online. Just watch out, it can be habit forming...

Suction Cup

Wynham. Suction. Cup. Need I say more?

Everybody Was Kung Fu Fighting

There are some things that can be explained and some things that just can't, no matter how hard you try. Like, who can explain why Carl Douglas' 1974 one-hit-wonder single, a weirdly sappy sentimental-sounding tune called Kung Fu Fighting, was such a wild success? Or, how come most people can sing that song from memory, even today? Wynham probably knows it because of the Kung Foo Hamster he got for Christmas one year.

Maybe that's what inspired him to come out of his room with his dukes up this morning. I know Claire decided to study Tae Kwon Do this year so that she could (and I quote), "kick Wynham's b---!" I even get the boxer shorts connection. But nothing could ever, not ever, explain why Wynham is wearing my Whittal & Javitts felt hat with the big satin bow for this particular occasion...

(no animals were harmed in the making of this post)

Cross Training

My brother Jonathan took this picture of Wynham up in the Santa Cruz mountains a few weeks ago, and it's a pretty good snapshot of Wynham's life philosophy: Hey guys! Let's lie down in front of a train and see what happens! It also reminds me of a poem my Grandfather continues to entertain us with every chance he gets (by coincidence, I asked him to tell it to me when I saw him in April, so that I could write it down and remember it...):

There was a man named Andy Bline

There was a man named Andy Bline
who hung three red shirts out on a line.
He bought a goat at his expense
and tied him to the backyard fence.
That goat got loose in plenty of time
and ate those three red shirts right off the line.
Andy Bline got mad and said,
“I wish to goodness that goat was dead!”
He took him down to the railroad track
and tied him fast upon his back.
In the distance came a fast express
and you can probably guess the rest…
but that goat had a scheme back in his brain –
he coughed up those three red shirts and flagged the train!

I'm sure Wynham has a plan in the back of his mind, too; I just don't know what it is yet...

Life in 3D

I'm a multidimensional dude!

It's a Scream

Jack is usually the happy-go-lucky, laid-back one of the bunch, but everyone has his limits. For the last couple of days Claire has been home sick with a cough, so the quiet routine of Jack’s normal business hours with his Mama’s undivided attention have been decidedly disrupted.

When the rest of the clan gets home, the tension starts to mount and things can turn on a dime. The escalating high-decibel mirth of their rambunctious play suddenly screeches into high-pitched, bloodcurdling cries for help.

Jack is a little man of few words, but in this impromptu photo he’s clearly saying, “I can’t take it any more!” I can relate. His way of retaliating against all these daytime bombardments of noise is to get up at three a.m. and quietly practice his ABCs. As cute as this is, I have to say, it makes me want to scream.

(painting: The Scream by Edvard Munch, 1893)

Of Aliens and Onions

My family says I have no sense of humor, and I want them to know they are seriously wrong. A humorless gal wouldn’t put herself out there for the whole world to see looking like a roast suckling alien (more on the goggles later).

First, you can’t change up to 32,000 diapers in your lifetime and not have the ability to laugh in the face of Der Poopinator. Call it bathroom humor, if you will, but you’ve got to focus on the amusing aspects of the situation when someone pees (with amazing accuracy) all over the shirt you just ironed.

Now, the slapstick routine of picking up the same shirts, hairclips, smelly shoes, wet socks, toys, sippy cups, bits of food, underpants, lip glosses, book bags, text books, magic markers, blankies, fur balls, marbles, Legos, spare parts, curling irons, dishes, and I-don’t-know-whatzits from the same places around the house seven times in the same day – that most certainly requires a funny bone. My feng shui got up and feng shwent a long time ago, but there’s still some sort of harmony in the hilarious.

Then there’s kitchen comedy. Last night for dinner I made what I’ll call Parody Pot Roast. This took seven hours to make, required a special trip to the Spanish food shop for smoked paprika, and tasted like, well… I’d say the dog’s food gets higher marks. Ha ha, ho ho, hee hee, the joke’s on me.

But a little side note on those glasses: they’re called OnionGoggles, and with the dense foam that encloses the eye socket, they guarantee tear-free onion slicing (and I slice a lot of 'em). Plus, they look pretty darn funny, especially with a color-coordinated apple. So you can’t really say I don’t have a flair for the farcical…

Wild Wonderful Wynham

Wynham has a real knack for being wacky. He amuses his younger siblings (and the rest of us, too) with his own personal brand of silly slapstick, and he can put on a show at the drop of a hat. I think the pictures speak for themselves…

(birthday hat photo by Paul Simcock)