Clara Montara

Clara started ballet classes recently. She goes to her class on Thursday after school, and then stays in character all throughout Thursday evening. Still dressed in full pink or black (depending on whether she has been dancing to Brahms or Beethoven), she leaps around the house, sometimes using her brother as an obstacle. I'm glad she likes ballet...it was my thing as a kid, after all (before I became a bowler :)), but I had no idea how expensive the whole thing was going to be! I expected to pay for the class and clothing, but I actually gasped when I heard that we need to fork out $75.00 for a costume for the recital. Then, we need to buy tickets to go and see the recital. Sheesh. It made me wonder how much my parents had to sacrifice to keep me on my toes for so many years. Thanks, folks.
Part of Clara's urge to perform comes from listening to Hanna Montana. We don't let her watch the TV show (one of the many injustices of her 7-year-old world), but she does have a Hanna Montana/Miley Cirus CD collection (I'll spare you the long story explaining why she has two names). Chad can't stand the music, but I don't find it too torturous. Anyway, back in December, Hanna/Miley was touring, and I toyed with the idea of taking Clara, until I found out the tickets ran about $300 bucks apiece. There I go, grousing about money again. But I digress.... As it turns out, the concert was made into a 3-D movie, for fifteen bucks a pop. Much better. So we went. Clara and I both looked very insect-like in the 3-D glasses, but it was the neatest thing! My first 3-D movie ever. I could have done with a little less screaming from the crowd, but we had a good time.
I can't really find the words to describe this little ensemble, but I will say that she never left the house like this.
Clara practices her routines for some future concert she will be presenting when she is a star. Trevor is one of the stunt dancers. His cat, Lisa, adds a feline touch to the whole performance.
Spring finally peeked its way through the grey today, and Clara was immediately struck with summer fever. This getup was not quite appropriate, but I applaud her conviction to the turn in the weather.

Sunshine

This boy is pure sunshine. He has such a joyful laugh...and I just happened to luck out and catch the progression of his laughter in these pics. It doesn't take much to get Trevor laughing, and we all spend a good deal of time trying to get him going. I feel so lucky to be able to share in his joy every day.



As he gets closer and closer to turning four, there are only a few precious words and expressions that still link him to the toddler he once was. He calls "cable cars", "table cars", for instance, and "Tabasco" sauce is called "Gobasco". From that, it follows that "Baskin Robbins" is "Gobasco and Robin". Our favorite, though, was the name he used for the sprinkler, back in the summer of 2006, when he was two. He called it a, "finker fanker". Now he'll say it that way when we ask him to, just to appease us, but he is quick to point out the correct pronunciation. Love him. Love him. Love him.

Art imitates life

Most nights, we spend a few hours just hanging out and playing with toys and whatnot. I am almost always the first one in jammies. I mean, I need to change out of my work clothes anyway, so why bother with an intermediate step? Tonight's play time was quite extraordinary. It started with the blocks. Trevor has these incredible, gravity-defying foam rubber blocks that he got from Grandpa Bob and Granne a couple of years ago. You can build anything with these blocks. Anything! Since they are so darn cool, they get played with almost every day. Today, Trevi was putting together some ramp-like contraption, and rolling the cylindrical blocks down it. Then, he would stand up beside his creation, and say things like, "Rats!", "Oh no!", and "I had a feeling this would happen!". I asked him why he was saying those things. He told me that he was waiting at the baggage carousel for his luggage, but it wasn't coming off the conveyor belt (he likes to use "conveyor belt" in conversation whenever possible). Clara, who was doing her homework in the other room, and looking for a procrastination tool (she's more like me every day), sprang into action. She quickly opened a hotel at the airport, and made sure that the guy with no baggage knew about this great place to spend the night. She gave away complimentary toothbrushes and floss. She let guests know that they could ask her for anything else they might need. Our little concierge.

Clara got Trevor all checked in and tucked in. He shared a room with several other guests, but he said the bed was comfortable, and he hoped there'd be a flight to Halifax in the morning.
This was a fun game that lasted all the way until bedtime - even when The Grand Hotel doubled its rates! And to think, none of this would have happened if we hadn't been stranded in Chicago on December 23rd, luggageless, and forced to spend the night at the Airport Hilton.