Wednesday, May 16, 2007
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.
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?
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.
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?