There are thems as thinks that Margaret is not getting enough air time on this blog. While I admit that it is a bit tricky to try to balance out the two children, I have a few words to say in my defense. First, Margaret has been being potty trained this week, and so she’s wearing considerably less clothing around the nether regions than is usual, and that means that I’m trying to limit how many pictures I take of her in a state of déshabillé. Second, the dang kid won’t stop moving long enough to get pictures taken of her. Ellie is still moving fairly slowly.
That said, there are lots of Margaret stories being shared, which I think makes up for it somewhat. After all, we shouldn’t worry so much about outward appearance. It’s what’s on the inside that counts, yes?
Which may pose its own set of problems, but lets leave that aside for now.
Anyway, one of the games that Margaret has been playing and playing and playing and playing has to do with Miss Clavel. Margaret has been agitating for a Miss Clavel doll, and I had filed that away in the great big possible Christmas present file that I have in my head.
But Margaret didn’t want to wait. Denied a Miss Clavel doll, she decided to take matters into her own hands, and she found one All. By. Herself.
And then she played one of her favorite games, which is putting other things or people to bed.
Here is Miss Clavel in the bed that Margaret lovingly made her.
She told me that her Miss Clavel doll had orange feet and face, which was a little different. And so it is.