Murphy's Law is in full force at our house.
Elsie is being a chubby darling, playing at standing up while raising her arms in the air, and I can't find our camera. It has lain idly for the past week on the steamer trunk in our front hallway, with no real cause for use, and now, when I need it, I can't find it.
So, dear reader, you must be content with my description.
Elsie is wearing an apple-green one-piece romper and fuzzy striped socks. Her dark brown hair has lightened a bit after our trip to Jamaica, and lost all of its island humidity-induced waviness, but there are a few sweet inklings of curls around her ears and the back of her neck. Her chubby cheeks seem as though she is storing nuts for the winter, but we know that is only a ruse. Although she still likes to pick up tasty things off of the floor and pop them into her mouth (don't worry, Gramma, all edible things).
She is a prolific crawler and cruiser, ably pulling herself up and moving from couch to chair to leg. Her favorite "leg up" is actually my leg, and I have to make certain my pants are on snugly, lest a too-strong tug should yank them off.
She loves to play games - mostly repetition games, where she will mimic whatever Nathan or I do, within limits. She'll clap her hands or hit her fat fists on the table after we do, or parrot our sounds, such as "Mama" or "Dada" or "Abha." She loves to clap and laugh, and play pat-a-cake and snuggle into my shoulder (which is my favorite).
But this evening, she is playing at standing. She'll start on all fours and shift her weight back into her rather large diapered bottom. They, she'll slowly raise her arms off of the floor, wobbling until she's lifted them over her head (or as much over her head as is possible, considering she is still the possessor of short and chubby baby arms). She then seeks my eyes and proudly quacks at her accomplishment. My favorite part is the "dismount," where she plops onto the aforementioned diapered bottom with a soft "thud."
My sweet chubby, dimpled baby.