Me: Are you going to move out on your own some day?
Me: Who are you going to live with?
Clara: Strangers! [glad she's so discerning]
Me: Oh, so you don't want to live with us forever?
Clara: No. I want to live outside... by myself. [sometimes I feel the same way, minus the outside part]
We recently told Clara that Brian is going to take her to see "The Nutcracker" in a few weeks and asked her if she was excited about it. She responded enthusiastically with a 'yes,' and then Colby jumped in with equal enthusiasm and said, "And I get to stay home and play quietly by myself!" An introvert's dream come true...
Me: Yes, sweetheart?
Clara: Sometimes I like you... and sometimes I don't.
Colby has this habit of adding "y" to the end of words as a sign of affection, which makes sense when you think about it because of words like Mommy/Daddy/Mimi/Franny/etc. He has been occasionally referring to Clara as "Clary" for a while now and even sometimes calls his aunt Shannon "Shanny," but my most favorite recent usage was when he referred to his action figure as "Darth Vadie" :)
Things that are equal parts endearing and terrifying: suddenly hearing Clara loudly and very clearly say, "Colby, you wanna build a house with me?" over the video monitor at 4 am. (She was talking in her sleep rather than waking up for a late night play session, thankfully.)
The twins have both been in a "I want Mommy to do it!" phase lately, which is neat. Colby had been particularly difficult at bedtime and was refusing to let Brian do anything. Brian was clearly frustrated, so Colby walked over to him and said, "Daddy, you're still my best friend. You can put my clothes on in the morning." It was sweet of him to try to make Brian feel better, but also amusing that he acted like getting to put his clothes on was some major honor that he was graciously bestowing upon Brian!
Clara has this habit of separating herself from any wrongdoing by vaguely suggesting she wasn't responsible for it. For example:
Upon realizing she had had an accident recently, I hadn't even opened my mouth to address it when she said, "Mommy, sometimes people pee pee in their pants and it's ok."
I also recently woke her up and realized the Curious George book she had gone to bed with had a page torn out of it. Before I could ask about it, she muttered sleepily, "Mommy, someone broke the George book."
Oh, this age!