Fish is Fish

My friend Tara, who has a gift for giving absolutely perfect gifts, sent us a package a month or so ago to celebrate the arrival of Helena. Amongst many delights was a book for Harper and Hudson titled Fish is Fish by Leo Lionni. I really like Mr. Lionni and his dream-like watercolor illustrations and simple yet profound stories. This particular book tells of a tadpole and a little fish who are growing up together in a pond. They are inseparable until one day, the little tadpole starts his metamorphosis. Once his transformation is complete, he leaves the pond to see the world. He comes back to tell the fish all about the wider world, and as he describes birds and cows and people to the fish, the fish imagines all of these mysterious beings as looking like fish--fish with wings and feathers, fish with udders, fish wearing hats and taking their children for walks. He, overcome with his desire to see these wonders for himself, flings himself out of the pond only to realize that the wider world isn't made for gills and fins. Thankfully, the frog is there to push him back into the water, where he breathes deep and, taking a look around, realizes that his world is beautiful as it is. It's really a lovely little tale.

We went back to the beach yesterday and I am happy to report that we seem to have escaped the Wrath of El Sol this time. We also, thanks to our friends the Browns (the aformentioned Covered-Up Family), got to enjoy the delights and conveniences of their beach house, which meant sand-free sunblock application and meals. PLUS toilets and a Magnificent Shower. Harper caught one large fish (quite dead) and one small fish (quite alive) using a bucket and with a little help from a couple of bigger boys.

Thanks to the husband, I got to sleep until EIGHT THIRTY this morning. Helena slept until NINE. Which reminds me that I didn't do a four month post for her. She continues to be a sweet, easy girl. She no longer has her Time of Great Sadness in the evenings because she has discovered these:
She also loves to be on her playmat on the floor, where she is free to wiggle and flip and play with her toes. She goes to bed between 6-6:30 and is still waking up for one feeding. We may or may not work on getting rid of that this month. I don't mind it very much at this point, I just need to intervene before it becomes a very bad habit, as it did with the brother. I finally got a picture of the smiling:She is beginning to express interest in toys but her favorite thing is still to have a person (or two or three) talking to her. This makes her chortle with glee. And today at lunch Harper and Hudson were making silly noises at each other and she laughed and joined in.

This morning Harper had these two little rubber lizards and she said to me, "Look Mommy, they're dancing. Because they are a boy and a girl. And that's what you do." She has also this week decided that she is going to be ballerina when she grows up. A ballerina and an entomologist.

Hudson has gotten in touch with his emotions in the past couple of weeks. He will come over to me, looking a bit woeful, usually clutching the blanket and sucking his thumb, and the conversation goes thus:

me: What's the matter Hudson?
Hudson: I'm just sad.
me: Oh? Why are you sad?
Hudson: Betuz. I'm just sad.

Usually the melancholy is wiped away with a nice hug. On the other side of the emotional spectrum, he has also begun expressing great joy over certain things. Pasta for dinner, for example. He expresses his pleasure with a couple of really deep knee bends, followed usually by his hands raised over his head coupled with an ecstatic utterance. Then some jumping. If there's anything cuter than those fat, square little Fred Flintstone feet slapping on the kitchen floor, I can't really think of it.