More to post later, but for now, you can follow this link to our photo page.
That stats: Ian Beckett Claycomb, 6/11/2009, 9:56 a.m. 8lbs even, 19 3/4 inches long. Nursing well, filling diapers, looking around a lot. Everyone healthy and happy.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Daddy's kids
The kids were super excited to meet Ian. Collin did a great job of holding his baby brother, while Lilah literally climbed my body to get her first glimpse of him. Her response? "Awww! so cuuuute!" Exactly ehr response to all of her favorite tiny adorable playthings.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
The New House: A Walking Tour
So this is our new house: Significantly smaller than the old one, which was a gaudy 4K+ square feet: more than we needed, and ultimately more than we could afford to maintain. This house is only a little more than 2K sq ft, and will be a little cramped, even after we thinned out our belongings, but it's an adorable historical home, exactly where we want to be living.
The new house is in a neighborhood much closer to campus (it takes less time to walk in now than it did to drive in before), and inhabited by scads of other faculty...our new neighbors hosted an end-of-the-year party this weekend, and we were invited, already besting the number of parties we were invited to in the old neighborhood.
So come on in, take a look around:
The front door opens onto a closed porch, with an eating area to the left and a play area to the right (as always, click pics to embiggen):
As you walk through the next door (itself a more modern front storm door: more secure than the original door required to remain intact by the historical society), you'll look to the right and see the room we're calling the library. I'm working in here now at the writing desk and hutch you see dead ahead.
This is my view back toward the front door from the desk:
And back to the front door, to the left, is the family room. as you walk toward the doorway in the back, you'll see the poster with the full text of Hamlet posted just above the stereo. Ann and I have actually consulted that poster more than once since we've had it.
If you turn around from that doorway, and look back toward the front door, this is the view of the family room...For the record, the literary fiction and memoir is alphabetized in here, with poetry, genre fiction, and writing reference back there in the library...
Cut through that door, and you'll see the dining room and kitchen...the dining room is directly behind the family room, and the kitchen is directly behind the library (but not accessible from there).
From the space at the border of these rooms, you can get good looks at both: The dining room, complete with tone-on-tone stripey wall (flat and metallic paints alternating)
And if you turn around, you'll see the kitchen, with terra-cotta colored walls, new countertops and appliances, and our stuff already comfortably ensconced around the premises. Straight ahead, on the counter, you can barely see four canisters, a Mother's Day gift for Ann, labeled (left to right) "Cuckoo for Cocoa," "Just a Spoonful of Sugar," "Flour Power," and "Better Living through Coffee"...The kids helped me come up with those.
Not pictured, because of tight spaces, a mudroom with coat hooks and shoe cubbies leading to the tiny but functional back yard, a 5x9 laundry room, which instead of laundry has Ann's elliptical, a wall-mounted spice rack, and a linen cabinet, and off of that, behind the kitchen, a half-bath.
Let's go upstairs, shall we? You will not see here the kids' bathroom at the top of the stairs, with Sun/Moon/Stars art and shower curtain, and a lovely sky-blue paint job.
To the left, above the library, you will see the master bedroom...cozy! Messy!
And around the corner through the bedroom is the master bath, which is pretty big, but hard to get a good photo of. There's a tiled shower to the right and two sinks, not one, to the left, and the loo is just below the left corner of the picture...in case you wondered...
at the other end of the hall, to the left of the stairs, you will see a decent-sized bedroom, currently, temporarily, housing both kids and Ann's desk.
And a small yellow bedroom, sunny and happy. Mostly full of half-unpacked stuff that will find a home eventually...
These last two rooms will not look like this in a month or so: the green bedroom will be an office and guestroom, and the yellow bedroom will be our nursery for Baby boy (public announcement of name coming soon). The room that will eventually be transformed into the twins' bedrooms, though, currently looks like this:
A lovely, open, unfinished attic.
So, thanks for stopping by...come again sometime!
The new house is in a neighborhood much closer to campus (it takes less time to walk in now than it did to drive in before), and inhabited by scads of other faculty...our new neighbors hosted an end-of-the-year party this weekend, and we were invited, already besting the number of parties we were invited to in the old neighborhood.
So come on in, take a look around:
The front door opens onto a closed porch, with an eating area to the left and a play area to the right (as always, click pics to embiggen):
As you walk through the next door (itself a more modern front storm door: more secure than the original door required to remain intact by the historical society), you'll look to the right and see the room we're calling the library. I'm working in here now at the writing desk and hutch you see dead ahead.
This is my view back toward the front door from the desk:
And back to the front door, to the left, is the family room. as you walk toward the doorway in the back, you'll see the poster with the full text of Hamlet posted just above the stereo. Ann and I have actually consulted that poster more than once since we've had it.
If you turn around from that doorway, and look back toward the front door, this is the view of the family room...For the record, the literary fiction and memoir is alphabetized in here, with poetry, genre fiction, and writing reference back there in the library...
Cut through that door, and you'll see the dining room and kitchen...the dining room is directly behind the family room, and the kitchen is directly behind the library (but not accessible from there).
From the space at the border of these rooms, you can get good looks at both: The dining room, complete with tone-on-tone stripey wall (flat and metallic paints alternating)
And if you turn around, you'll see the kitchen, with terra-cotta colored walls, new countertops and appliances, and our stuff already comfortably ensconced around the premises. Straight ahead, on the counter, you can barely see four canisters, a Mother's Day gift for Ann, labeled (left to right) "Cuckoo for Cocoa," "Just a Spoonful of Sugar," "Flour Power," and "Better Living through Coffee"...The kids helped me come up with those.
Not pictured, because of tight spaces, a mudroom with coat hooks and shoe cubbies leading to the tiny but functional back yard, a 5x9 laundry room, which instead of laundry has Ann's elliptical, a wall-mounted spice rack, and a linen cabinet, and off of that, behind the kitchen, a half-bath.Let's go upstairs, shall we? You will not see here the kids' bathroom at the top of the stairs, with Sun/Moon/Stars art and shower curtain, and a lovely sky-blue paint job.
To the left, above the library, you will see the master bedroom...cozy! Messy!
And around the corner through the bedroom is the master bath, which is pretty big, but hard to get a good photo of. There's a tiled shower to the right and two sinks, not one, to the left, and the loo is just below the left corner of the picture...in case you wondered...
at the other end of the hall, to the left of the stairs, you will see a decent-sized bedroom, currently, temporarily, housing both kids and Ann's desk.
And a small yellow bedroom, sunny and happy. Mostly full of half-unpacked stuff that will find a home eventually...
These last two rooms will not look like this in a month or so: the green bedroom will be an office and guestroom, and the yellow bedroom will be our nursery for Baby boy (public announcement of name coming soon). The room that will eventually be transformed into the twins' bedrooms, though, currently looks like this:A lovely, open, unfinished attic.
So, thanks for stopping by...come again sometime!
Monday, February 2, 2009
Snow Day Desperation--we invent board games
I know, I know, it’s been quite a while. Please chalk up our blog silence to the fact that we’ve been virtual prisoners of our own children since, oh, December 19th, when their Christmas Break officially began. Since then, they have had approximately 5 actual school days, the result of ear infections, fevers, and snow, snow, snow . . . as Lilah told me the other day: “Mommy, I’ve had a little too much Mommy and Daddy time lately.”
So what have we been doing? Well, as these few gems will hopefully illustrate, trying hard not to strangle said children for their precocity (or something like that. Perhaps a less-charitable word might be in order.) Collin, for his part, is so obsessed with the movie Kung Fu Panda (thanks Auntie Paula and Uncle Scott. No, really. Thanks.) that he has lost privileges to watch said film until mid-February. This is what happens when you:
a. cannot stop talking about the film, even while chewing, using the toilet, supposedly listening to a church sermon, and/or being told/read an entirely different story or watching an entirely different film
b. Kung fu kick your mother in the grocery store. Repeatedly.
c. Kung fu punch your sister’s head. Daily. Then fail to understand why she is crying.
As for Lilah? Well, in my own defense (I want an award for the not strangling), I offer up this story:
It was (yet another) snow day and Lilah requested a very specific lunch: one piece of bread, lightly toasted, topped with (in this order) one piece of American cheese, two pieces of lettuce, and several slices of tomato. She selected the tomatoes herself. I made the sandwich and put it in front of her. She ate the tomatoes, lifted up the lettuce, then said, “This is better than I thought it would be.”
“Oh? That’s great, honey. I’m glad you like it.”
Heavy sigh. “Mommy, can’t you tell when I’m being sarcastic?”
So what have we been doing? Well, as these few gems will hopefully illustrate, trying hard not to strangle said children for their precocity (or something like that. Perhaps a less-charitable word might be in order.) Collin, for his part, is so obsessed with the movie Kung Fu Panda (thanks Auntie Paula and Uncle Scott. No, really. Thanks.) that he has lost privileges to watch said film until mid-February. This is what happens when you:
a. cannot stop talking about the film, even while chewing, using the toilet, supposedly listening to a church sermon, and/or being told/read an entirely different story or watching an entirely different film
b. Kung fu kick your mother in the grocery store. Repeatedly.
c. Kung fu punch your sister’s head. Daily. Then fail to understand why she is crying.
As for Lilah? Well, in my own defense (I want an award for the not strangling), I offer up this story:
It was (yet another) snow day and Lilah requested a very specific lunch: one piece of bread, lightly toasted, topped with (in this order) one piece of American cheese, two pieces of lettuce, and several slices of tomato. She selected the tomatoes herself. I made the sandwich and put it in front of her. She ate the tomatoes, lifted up the lettuce, then said, “This is better than I thought it would be.”
“Oh? That’s great, honey. I’m glad you like it.”
Heavy sigh. “Mommy, can’t you tell when I’m being sarcastic?”
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
So you will all understand if we don't get a Christmas card out this year . . .
Five years ago, Collin was Baby A; Lilah was Baby B. So Ryan says this one must be Baby C. Hey, we're nothing if not alphabet-savvy here.
Hope everyone who reads this is doing well!
Hope everyone who reads this is doing well!
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Contemplative
Well, it’s happened—already. Our family is split on party lines. Collin is voting for “Arack Obama,” but Lilah is voting for John McCain (though she usually refers to him as Jean Valjean, the character in Les Miserables, so she may actually be a populist and not know it.) And she’s actually a bit sad that she can’t vote for the lady any more.
“Mommy—why is she not running for the President anymore? What’s her name, that lady—Henry? Henry Clinton. I wanted to vote for her.”
“Mommy—why is she not running for the President anymore? What’s her name, that lady—Henry? Henry Clinton. I wanted to vote for her.”
Posing
I really think that Ryan had anticipated most of the challenges that he, in particular, would face when he became a parent: the lack of sleep, the discipline issues, the sudden presence in his house of some very loud people who think things like fine cheese and truffle oil are “stinky . . . ewwww.”
What he hadn’t counted on was Lilah not inheriting the matching gene. If you know Ryan, you know that he’s got it (straight from his mom, of course). Subtle shades of brown in a blue-patterened tie means you wear a brown jacket and blue shirt and your students are a little taken aback by your snazzy wardrobe.
Lilah, on the other hand, seems to have inherited a matching gene directly from her grandmother Mirene, who was a huge fan of cabbage roses and matching her shoes to her bag to her lipstick. Add to this tendency a literal-minded understanding of pattern (“But Daddy, this shirt has flowers and the pants have flowers so they match!”) and a LARGE dose of sheer bloody-minded stubbornness on both parts and you have some interesting mornings.
“No, Lilah. You cannot wear that polka dot shirt with the flowered skirt and striped tights. People will laugh at you.”
“But why? They are all new things that I got. I want to wear them together.”
When Ryan is in charge, he wins. Let it be noted, however, that sometimes Lilah changes clothes in the middle of the day when he’s not around (witness this lovely ensemble.)
As for Super-Boy over here beside her, there's just no explanation. I mean, he's Super-Boy! Surely you can see his awesome powers of judo and skinny-legged kicking.
What he hadn’t counted on was Lilah not inheriting the matching gene. If you know Ryan, you know that he’s got it (straight from his mom, of course). Subtle shades of brown in a blue-patterened tie means you wear a brown jacket and blue shirt and your students are a little taken aback by your snazzy wardrobe.
Lilah, on the other hand, seems to have inherited a matching gene directly from her grandmother Mirene, who was a huge fan of cabbage roses and matching her shoes to her bag to her lipstick. Add to this tendency a literal-minded understanding of pattern (“But Daddy, this shirt has flowers and the pants have flowers so they match!”) and a LARGE dose of sheer bloody-minded stubbornness on both parts and you have some interesting mornings.
“No, Lilah. You cannot wear that polka dot shirt with the flowered skirt and striped tights. People will laugh at you.”
“But why? They are all new things that I got. I want to wear them together.”
When Ryan is in charge, he wins. Let it be noted, however, that sometimes Lilah changes clothes in the middle of the day when he’s not around (witness this lovely ensemble.)
As for Super-Boy over here beside her, there's just no explanation. I mean, he's Super-Boy! Surely you can see his awesome powers of judo and skinny-legged kicking.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)