On Friday, Clara and I stayed out until the bewitching hour of 10:00 p.m. to watch Aaron play with a rambunctious group of string players. Thanks to a three hour nap earlier that afternoon, Clara loved it.
Kelsey, Paul, and Anna met us there, and, thank goodness, because if it weren’t for the laps of people other than Mom, Clara would never sit still anywhere. Kelsey and Paul took turns swapping daughters while we listened to Scottish dirges.
The next morning, Clara perfected the art of dressing herself. Now, every morning she insists on trying on five different pairs of pajama pants. She’ll even dump out her pants and shirt drawers to pick out her clothes for the day, but it will take her a good half hour to finish the task. And, whatever you do, do not approach, help, or touch the article of clothing in use. I made the mistake of gently—so gentle, my hand was a ghost—pulling her pants over her diaper and she thrashed her head down in utter defeat, stripped the pants to her ankles, and sighed with great resignation as she started the whole process again. Below, Clara exhibits her favorite winter combination.
And here’s some footage from Friday night. The first one is cute because I get a little of Clara’s head bouncing. The second is cute because Aaron’s slapping his guitar like a flaming Spanish tocaor.