November 28

Huh. My pictures have not been very good lately. I'm going to continue to blame this on the yucky, dreary November light. Thanks for sticking through this blah spell with me!

Here are some random playtime photos.

Daisy, having some diaper-free time on the blanket. Girl loves to be naked; I'm going to speculate that she gets that from her Daddy.

See? Naked and happy. I really hope she outgrows that. Otherwise, I foresee a rocky adolescence.

OK, this funny face Caleb is making? It's his fake crying face. It's accompanied by a sweet little "huh huh huh" that he seems to think is how crying sounds. (It's actually much too cheerful-sounding to be real crying.) Why is my child making fake crying sounds, you ask?

Well.

Before Chris' grandma died, she bought a bunch of books for the kids. (Have I already told this story? I feel like I've already told this story.) Among Grandma's things, Chris' mom found copies of Goldilocks and the Three Bears, Cinderella, The Pied Piper, Jemima Puddleduck, The Lion and the Mouse, and the Princess and the Frog. She brought them home for Caleb and Daisy, and of course Caleb loves them. His favorite changes each day.

Caleb has discovered that even when we're not reading the books, we can "play" the books. Maybe I already wrote about how he plays Lion and the Mouse, using his mesh laundry bag as a net? He also really likes to play Princess and Frog. Of course, he is always the princess. In the book, the princess loves to toss her golden ball in the air and catch it, until one day when the ball falls into the well. The princess cries bitterly until a frog hops up and asks, "Princess, why are you crying?", then saves the day. Caleb has found his own golden (yellow) ball, which he tosses into his laundry hamper. Then does his lovely fake cry until I croak, "Princess, why are you crying?" and fetch his ball. I get bonus points if I return it to him using my mouth instead of my hands.

Yep.

What's especially funny is that sometimes he decides to play this game while we're out in public, like when we're waiting in line to check out at the grocery store. He doesn't have a ball then, but I know we're playing when he makes that face and starts with the "huh huh huh". The only way to stop my child's (fake) crying is to call him "princess" and ask him why he's crying in my froggiest voice.

I'm pretty sure everyone around us thinks I'm insane, or that I'm creating gender-identity issues for my son, but I'm getting used to it. It's actually rather funny.

At least, he thinks it is.

(Don't you like his frog prince shirt, too? That was a total fluke - we've had it for nearly a year. How funny!)