Funny Faces
These are the photos of Louisette that I find funny – often just because of her facial expression. Only the birthday cake photo was posed – the rest just happened.
0-1 month:
No! Not without makeup on!
Ninja baby only pretends to sleep.
Fart face.
What on EARTH is that pink flailing thing, and why is it following me?!?
The eternal, “Huh?”
1-2 months:
Mmm, tasty.
Mwa haha! They’ll never catch me!
Suspicious baby.
Oh no! They’re on to me!
Okay, this one was posed (or was it?)
I respectfully disagree.
2-3 months:
And this one (the hard part is always getting the zip done up, am I right?)
That bag was a lifesaver while travelling (it’s designed as a stroller insert, and worked great as a handbag/cot).
I’m watching you, Mr Elephant. Don’t make any sudden moves.
Could I be any more ladylike?
Music! Flashing lights! Arg!
3-4 months:
Winner!
Nom nom.
I’m so nervous chewing my nails just isn’t enough.
Holding Hands With A Boy.
I would have got away with it too, if it wasn’t for those darn kids.
A-a-almost got it. . .
Why does that giraffe have a rainbow shoved through its skull?
Flipper baby
Okay, I can explain! See there was this thing, and then I just. . .
Yo, bring me a cold one, wouldya?
First dates are always so awkward. What am I meant to say?
Pfft.
4-5 months:
What could possibly go wrong?
Look what I caught!
Why won’t the book open?
Darn it, I KNEW I’d forgotten something!
They grow old so fast.
Sneaking up on the enemy.
Drop bear.
I can eat the caterpillar, and my hand, and the world – simultaneously.
Sadly, her actual hair.
5-6 months:
Fascinated by her cousin.
Why do you want to eat the table, sweetheart?
Because it’s there.
Obviously hiding SOMETHING.
Kissing frogs.
Easy to hold onto, not so easy to put in her mouth.
And the feeling is mutual.
Whatever works.
Mirror, mirror – who on earth is in there?
Suspicion versus further fascination.
Dressed as the hungry caterpillar, and hungry for the hungry caterpillar book. (The combination of outfit and book was deliberate.)
Yeaaaaahh!
6-7 months:
and three seconds earlier:
How does she already know she wants lollies? She’s not on solids yet.
Nom nom.
Saucepan!!!!! Woooohooooo!!!!!!!!!!
Thanks, poppy. I’ll be taking that now.
Would you keep down that racket?
And then the Irishman said, “I’ll be having mine with potatoes!”
Mine.
Once she could crawl, it suddenly got very difficult to keep her in frame.
But I LIKE drinking this way.
Wassamatter?
8-9 months:
Nom nom.
Mine.
Hark! Is that Prince Charming, come to take me away on his white horse?
Just not that impressed.
Box!!!! Wooo!!
Mister? Mister, wake up!
Her natural hairstyle.
Being a baby takes a lot of concentration.
Nom nom.
Yes, she’s blowing a raspberry (her idea; she invented the technique without ever seeing it done). Yes, that’s a grand piano in the background.
Nom nom.
I believe I mentioned she suddenly became a great deal harder to photograph. This represents 90% of the photos I’ve taken ever since.
Nom nom.
Buddy? Are you okay up there?
9-10 months:
Punk princess.
Pushing boundaries.
Still working on that “eating” technique.
Bad hair day.
Yes, she’s genuinely asleep with her face on her own legs.
Eating a peg and apparently kind of angry about it.
What do you mean she’s not a chew toy? (This is after repeated attempts at sucking on her littlest cousin – not all of them unsuccessful.)
This is such a drag.
Is it coffee time or what?
Talk to the hand.
Baby death-glare.
Truth in advertising (read her shirt).
Mmm. . . coke. . .
And THIS is how I get dow—arg!
About time somebody cleaned up around here.
10-11 months:
Hurrah!
Eeevil baby.
A little but of shush, please. I’m talking.
Ten seconds later:
Leggo of me, Poppy! I’m doing fine.
Would she gain the ability to reach the presents before Christmas? It was a close-run thing.
11-12 months:
Nome nom. 
Nom nom.
Who says you need a dog to tidy up?
Marry me, Justin Bieber!!!!
I ordered my latte five minutes ago. Where IS that incompetent new assistant of mine?
Is there something on my face?
Aargg, noooo!!!
Aaaalmost there. . . .
Not happy, Jan.
Cleanliness is next to annoyingness.
I gotta drink up before they find me.
Eureka! One year old!
Felicity Banks 
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