Look Who's Walking

Sometimes this is the only way Tim can get me moving too.




Please ignore my embarrassing "mommy voice". I should have toned it down for the video, as it is a bit horrifying if you are under 2 years of age... but, to be honest, it is pretty much the only way I talk any more.

His Bib Speaks the Truth

This exchange seemed to go on for hours.


It leaves only one question: Is he laughing with grandma, or at grandma? Either way, it’s something to be thankful for – Happy Thanksgiving!

Awww… his first boogers

Alexander is in the throes of his first cold right now. This cold started with Tim, then traveled to Alexander, and today the torch is being passed to me. Of course, my version of the cold is a bit mutated in symptoms from the original cold that Tim had so I wonder if I will pass this mutated version of the virus back to the guys. Ah, the circle of microscopic life. It's such a beautiful, snotty thing.

Here is something you don't really think about until the situation arises... babies can't blow their nose. They also can't nurse with a stuffed up nose. The solution? A booger vacuum. Since I was on bedrest for most of the pregnancy, I had time to think about and research these things. So we already had a top of the line booger vacuum on hand. (In polite society this is called a nasal aspirator.) This bizarre device even plays music to distract the baby from the motorized sucking sound. The first few times, Alexander actually enjoyed it. Once the novelty wore off, and the true horror of the event set in, he no longer enjoyed the booger vacuum. We have to stop using the music feature before a Pavlovian response is established - we'd hate for him to scream every time he hears The Entertainer. It could make for some awkward moments with the local ice cream truck.

Fortunately, Tim has a way of making everything better. Here is a picture of Tim singing to Alexander. Sorry there is no audio with this – but you can see the look on Alexander’s face and fill in the blanks yourself.



All the singing worked, and here is Alexander sawing tiny logs. Yar.



Some logs aren't so tiny...

In other adorable news...Tim had a client stop by yesterday and drop off some media. For some reason, Alexander thought this guy was just hilarious. Although the guy didn’t provoke it, Alexander just looked at him and laughed and laughed. Fortunately, the client was amused rather than insulted. Babies have a way of sensing “good peeps” and laughing must have been his way of saying he liked the cut of this guy’s jib. Wow. I don’t even know what a jib is, and Alexander has already mastered evaluating them. He is so 99th percentile.

Baby Workout

Ever wonder how he keeps his thighs so chunky and his cheeks so round? Do you want to achieve the same Michelin-man physique? Check out Alexander’s daily routine with his personal trainer:



(The blinking portion of the workout is especially grueling.)

Our Lil’ Hacker

We’ve learned how to keep a baby entertained for hours.



Mmmm… screensaver. Trippy…

Woooooooow.

Hunting Wabbits

One of the unexpected joys of motherhood is goofy hats.

Maybe if I talk louder, they will understand...

I make up words too, so he comes by it honestly...


I think his story was about an owl that hurt himself. (See, there were lots of "woo"s and "ow"s) And don’t worry, Alexander's not drowning in a duck-infested waters. That’s just his blankie.



One good story deserves another. This time you will see Alexander is taking a cue from our neighbor and talking loudly without his shirt on. If only there were some teenage kids he could berate, it would complete the 'angry neighbor' look.



And, believe it or not, he does actually say “mama” on occasion. I don’t have video proof, but I do have reliable witnesses who would be willing to testify. He doesn’t associate 'mama' or 'maaam' with me – as far as he is concerned, "mama" is just as meaningful as the word “ah-goo”.

And I swear last night he said “Where’s Grandma?” but maybe I just need to get some sleep.

Compare and Contrast

Alexander is definitely a morning baby. I just wish he'd start his mornings a bit later. Here is his mood at 4:00 am:


And don't let the singing fool you. Here is my mood at 4:00 am:

(That’s just a yawn, by the way. No need to call paramedics.)

This onesie was made for rollin’

That’s just what it’ll do. One of these days this onesie's gonna roll all over you.

OK, enough with the bad Nancy Sinatra impression.

Alexander made his first unassisted roll over yesterday! The way that he always tries to sit up, Tim thought his first roll over would be the long way (back to toe to tummy – if you can visualize that feat)… but instead he opted for the standard tummy to side to back form.

Here he is getting angry at the situation before flipping over.


Way to locomote, boy!

Blue Interrogation

We’ve been trying to get our insurance all figured out. Today Tim had a phone call with Blue Cross Blue Shield. Although Tim has only been to the doctor twice in the last two or three years, they still wanted to know every detail about those visits before they’d decide if he is worthy of their fancy pants insurance. Tim is very healthy and pays far far more in premiums than he costs the insurance company. You’d think they’d be happy to take his money. No, instead they act like they are doing a huge favor to even consider offering him coverage. They flicked on the interrogation lamp and the conversation sounded something like this:

BC/BS Interrogator: What was the nature of your doctor visit on December 2, 2005?

TIM: I don’t even remember what I had for breakfast this morning.

BC/BS Interrogator: What diagnostic code was used for your strained shoulder in summer of 2007?

TIM: Negative five?

BC/BS Interrogator: You do not amuse us, sir.

They also quizzed Tim about Alexander. One question jumped out as really capturing the essence of the entire interrogation. “Does Alexander smoke or use tobacco products?” If he could have, Tim would have responded with the sound of chirping crickets. That is all the response the question deserved.

It seems ridiculous to even ask if an 11-week-old baby smokes, but some infant must have posed for this ceramic figurine.