Down at Fraggle Rock

In an attempt to make Norah look more like Boo from "Monsters Inc.," Libby pulled back her first pigtails yesterday. Pigtails on little girls are, of course, an adorable staple. There is, however, one minor consideration that must first be addressed--is the hair actually long enough to pull it off.


In this case, I'm going to have to go with "no."

This picture is the one that prompted the title of this post. After getting the pigtails up, Libby decided that Norah looked like a Fraggle. This made me laugh. Maybe her name could be Buttser.

Yesterday (and today, and probably tomorrow, if I get right down to it) was Baking Day. I have not done a major Christmas baking day since the year before Gabe was born. Small children have a way to distract away from any desire to spend a few days cooking (though, I have to admit, that they are a GREAT reason to want to stay isolated in a kitchen for an entire day--seriously, I totally understand why earlier generations spent so much time cooking from scratch. I mean, besides not having fast food and prepackaged meals to buy at the store. It was the best way a mother could distance herself from her children and not be frowned upon by judgmental neighbors. I get that now. I really, really do.). But, this year, I decided it was time to revive the tradition.

And, because Gabe loves to help, I tasked Libby with the job of assisting Gabe in all of the cookie cuttering that needed to be done. Not surprisingly, since he's probably clocked about 1000 hours of Play-Doh cutting, he did a very good job of cutting out the Christmas shapes. The two of them worked on the dining room table.

None of this is particularly interesting, I know, but I needed to lead in to the picture I took.

After they finished the first few dozen cookies, Libby got tired of messing with it and moved on to other things. But she left the flour on the table, figuring she would come back to do more cookies later. In the interim, Gabe decided to play with it. About ten minutes after they were done cutting cookies, this is what I found.

The baby is obviously the creepiest part of this little tableau, with its head turned all the way around, resting in a pile of scattered "flour." It's like a scene out of "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" or "Trainspotting."