Babies Everywhere!

Baby Moose here.  It has recently come to my attention that I am not the only little person.  Who knew?  Yesterday and today a sleepy fellow named Sawyer came over.  He seemed pretty nice and had these cool boxing gloves on!  I don't think he should probably be picking fights, though, 'cause he's not exactly a heavyweight.

Wait!... This news just in!  Another baby has been born and this time he's a full-blown cousin.  A boy like me!  Oh, this is going to rock!  His name is Sean Alan, he's about the same weight as me when I was born and he's got hair.  You've got to love hairy babies.

So, word to my homey Sawyer and a big "Wassup?" to my new cuz Sean.  I will be seeing you guys around.

A Poem for Mom

Mom's been sick.

She's feeling ick.

A nasty bug

Gave her a lick.

I want a hug,

To be held snug,

And to give a kick

To that mean bug.

Sew what?

You know what makes a great gift even more special? Personalization! Look at how Mom tricked out my shirt. Is she talented or what? (Oh, and pay no attention to Auntie Ninja in the background; she's always over-reacting. You'd think she'd never picked me up before.)

To tell you the truth, I did question Mom's sewing skills at first. She made me this big sock and even I could tell it was way too huge for me.I mean, they may call me Baby Moose, but my feet are actually rather small.

Then they told me it was to hold my Christmas presents. Stockings? Presents? Christmas? I'm going to have to do some research on this. I'll keep you informed!

To the Man Cave (part 2)

So Mom went out with "the girls" to see something they call a "chick flik", which left Daddy and Poppi and me to our own devices. Of course I said, "To the Man Cave!" where we could settle down to an afternoon of guilt-free football-watching.

It's exciting, and not a little stressful. You see, Daddy wants me to be a Packer-fan, and Poppi wants me to be a Viking-fan. The one thing we can all agree on, however, is that we hate the Bears.

(Oh, and "Go, Hawkeyes!")

Poppi and me, just chillin' and watching the game.

"TOUCHDOWN!"

The Great-Greatest Generation

Mommy and Daddy trundled me off to Missouri for a week at Thanksgiving to hang out with great-grandma AND great-great-grandma. It was all fun and I didn't have to sit at the kid's table, for which I'm thankful.

We also had the opportunity for a five-generation photo featuring great-great-grandma West, great-grandma Stewart, Poppi, Mommy and me, Benjamin West Worley. I'm used to be being the center of attention in any photo, but I'm happy and honored to be just a small (but still imporant) part of this picture.

Beyonce-ing Baby Boy

Mostly I hang out with married ladies, but Mommy likes the song "All the Single Ladies" by Beyonce, so when it played the other day I decided to bust a move, much to the dismay of Grandma Mim and the budgies.

If you turn your sound up high enough you can hear the music. Okay, everybody sing along: "All the single babies, all the single babies...all the single babies, all the single babies...if you like it then you should have put a bib on it! If you like it then you should have put a bib on it!"

Now, just a little work on my passo doble and tango and I'll be reading for Dancing With the Stars ... except that it goes on after my bed-time.

There's no need to fear....

So this morning Daddy props me up in the cushions on the corner of the couch where I can see all this fluffy new white stuff coming down. I'll need to look into that some more. Anyway, I also see Poppi sitting in the other corner in his big chair. As usual he's got his laptop and a cup of coffee.

Laptop? That's supposed to be my job, so I start waving my arms and leaning forward, trying to catch Poppi's attention. As I did so, however, I started to tip forward and the next thing I know I'm flopped over the edge of the couch with my head pointed toward the floor.

I couldn't exactly see what happened in the next half-second, but boy could I hear it! The computer went one direction the coffee cup another and all these strange creaking and popping noises (Oh! That's why we call him "Poppi"!) and then he's got me scooped up and laughing. I never would have guessed the old guy could move so fast!

A New Thing

I confess that I was noticeably grouchy the last time I wrote.  Will you forgive me?  

The following isn't so much a penitential act as it is joyful reportage (say that with a French accent for full impact.)

I have learned to giggle and laugh when tickled!  Mommy was poking me with her fingers the other day and, "tee hee" just kinda slipped out of my mouth.  And again!  It felt fun, kind of like spitting up, but less messy.  

Hats

Today Mom tried to put a hat on my head.  Hated it.  So I told her so.

Fast forward 5 seconds.  She tries on another stupid hat!  What, is yelling my face off not clear enough?

Fast forward another 5 seconds.  What is wrong with these people?  Dad gets this grin on his face and the next thing you know I've got another stupid hat on my head.  Aarrrggghhhh!!!!!  I HATE HATS!!!!!!  It may not be logical, but it's my thing.  So lay off already.

My hero

It seems perfectly natural to me, but I know some people question how I, a baby, am able to write and maintain this blog. Oh come on, people -- it's not as if I'm the first baby wise beyond his years in the ways of the new media!

Take a look at the latest from my hero:



Now I want my own smart phone!

Eruption of Pseudo Wimsey

 So then, if you are a keen observer you will notice that there is a kitchen in the background (the pantry is the giveaway.)  As a regular reader of this blog, you will know from previous pictures that this is not my kitchen!  So then, you are asking yourself, "Whose kitchen is it?"  Tis a question that is right on point.  We must look for clues.  Take the young lad with the nice smile who is holding me with such confidence.  Have you seen him before?  Why yes!  Yes you have.  This 10 year old has indeed graced the electronic pages of this webbie, back in August as I recall.  His name is Andrew and he is my cousin.  Given his identity we come back to question, "whose kitchen is it?" 

Perhaps it is time for more evidence.  Kindly notice the next picture.  There is a boy who is holding me.  But he is not the same boy!  Duh, duh, duuuuuuuuuuuh.  So who is this mysterious young man and what part does he play?  Well I shall tell you.  But first let it be remarked that he has also appeared on this webbie.  His name is Christopher and he is my cousin.  He is 8 years old. 

So then, where am I?  Gentle reader, surely I must be in the abode wherein these two young gentlemen reside!  And so it was this past weekend.  I, along with dear mother and that fatherly fellow, made the journey to Mankato to visit cuz and cuz.  It was rather a nice trip as the autumn has been gentle and kind, the company was good, and who needs a hot water heater anyway?  "Hot water heater?"  Yes indeed, the hulking clod of tin gave up the old esprit and leaked its life juices out onto the basement floor.  Could have been a horrible mess except for my timely and heroic action!  Just kidding!  I was just lying around the whole time.  Someone else noticed the impending disaster and took action.  I'm pretty sure it was my Auntie Rachel.  She's a dear, by the way.  Very kind with yours truly and I must say that I appreciate it.

Well, I've been rambling ever so much.  I should mention that Uncle Fred was there too, enjoying the weekend away from his students.  The two danderballs (cats) were slinking about.  And Lynx must have stopped by, though I didn't see her, because we had a rather marvelous Chinese dinner on Sunday.  Toodle pip!

PS: Happy belated birthday to my dear auntie who turned "the square root of one hundred sixty nine times a halved foursie."

Your multi-media Baby Moose

So I've got this blog thing going on, immortalizing my thoughts in text, and there have also been photos and even videos. Did you know that my Auntie Ninja has also featured me in cartoons?

My lawyer says I have to insert the "Don't Try This At Home" disclaimer here to cover my, er, diaper. As far as I know, I'm the only one who can even attempt to get chocolate past Auntie Ninja.

Btw, you can see this cartoon and others in the series in their full-size and glory by clicking the following links:

http://thenightwriterblog.com/2010/08/02/anorexstics-inaneymous-095/
http://thenightwriterblog.com/2010/08/09/anorexstics-inaneymous-096/
http://thenightwriterblog.com/2010/08/16/anorexstics-inaneymous-097/

Cruisin' the lake!

Yesterday Mom and Auntie Beth took me on a walk around Lake Como. I didn’t have to do much, just look at all the bright colored leaves around me. Mom is getting to be a fast walker again, but Auntie Beth is carting around my future cousin-to-be, so she’s a little slow. We even took a break for awhile so she could rest and hold me. I didn’t mind because I got to sit on my cousin for a bit!!

Yankees

Daddy put me in a new kind of diaper today.  It has a big N and a big Y on it.  Now he laughs every time I fart.  Daddy's weird sometimes.

Look what I can do

Dad put me down on my blankie for a little tummy time today. I don't really like tummy time that much because it's harder for me to see what is going on around me. Today I had to push myself up to see better. Next thing I know, everyone is shouting at me!

Sacre Bleu

Mom is trying to teach me the alphabet, in French.  Poul l'amour de Pete, I'm just a baby!

A tip of the tongue

I never quite understood it, but for some reason it always seemed that when people picked me up they'd sooner or later start sticking their tongue out at me. Usually I'd just stare back at them, befuddled. What was the meaning of this rude behavior? Had I done something to offend them? Is it some ritual greeting, like shaking hands? (I still haven't figured THAT one out - helloooo, people - do you have any idea where my hands have been?)

And then, the other day, I'd had enough of all that so I stuck my tongue out right back at them! You know what? It's fun! No wonder people are always doing this! Now whenever someone sticks their tongue out at me, I respond in kind - and we all laugh like the dickens!

Saturday

Today Mom and Dad took me in a car ride across the city to see some friends from birthing class.  When we arrived at a house I looked around to see if there were any other babies and sure enough there was another milk-guzzler like me.  She was a bit smaller and she needed spit-up in her hair to get it to lay down.  Her name was Shula.  I told dad that I thought the football reference was cool, but he told me it had to do with the Bible, Shulamit something or other.  Whatever.  Then another milk-guzzler came in.  She was balder than an eagle!  I tried not to laugh too hard.  Then I fell asleep.  The end.

I'm ready for my spit-up, I mean, close-up, C.B.!

I fully realize that I'm at the stage where everything I do is cute and adorable, though I don't mind turning on the charm when I have to. 

Naps and Dreams

Goodness me, this week has flown by.  It's like I got put down for one of those awful naps that mom and dad keep insisting on, and then woke up days later.  Moose van Winkle! 

What's the deal with naps anyway?  Are they doing something secret?  What am I missing out on?  Do I look like a baby that needs to sleep 18 hours a day?  One of these days I am going to bust out of that bassinet and do some reconnaissance, but first I've got to figure out how to roll over.

Bring me that horizon!

I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.

May be it is in my heritage but just like English poet John Masefield I find myself constantly called back to the sea. Well, to the St. Croix River, anyway, and it's not a tall ship but a pontoon boat. Nevertheless, I ride easily over the waves, my eyes fixed unwaveringly on the horizon. It's hard to explain the attraction, but Masefield, author of "Sea Fever", understands.

Startle

Every time daddy sneezes or blows his nose I get startled.  I was having some milk for breakfast this morning when he let loose with one.  I popped right off.  At this point, I think he does it on purpose.

I Invented a New Game

This afternoon, after dad got home from work, we were playing one of his favorite games.  He would squeeze my cheeks and make a funny noise.  I would laugh.  Rinse.  Repeat.  Not a bad game at all.  But I thought I would spice things up a bit.  So as he pinched my cheeks again I let out a big noise from my bottom.  He and Mom laughed about how stinky I was.  I was laughing too, especially when Dad discovered that I'd burst the bonds of my diaper and overpowered the defenses of my pajamas.  He was nice enough to change me before he changed himself.  Maybe we can play my game again soon; it's called, "Explosion!"

The Boys Were Back in Town

I guess you really couldn't call it a reunion since, 1) I've never been to Alexandria before, and 2) this was the first time we'd laid eyes on each other, but it felt good to hang out with Christopher and Andrew.

And the Memories Continue

This past weekend was so big I can hardly remember it all!  The recollections that I shared earlier were certainly part of the story, more Mom's family.  But then there was Dad's family.  It's almost as if I've got two hemispheres in my brain, remembering different things!

I've got cousins!  I'd heard tell of rambunctious boy cousins with skinny jeans and skateboards.  Frankly, I was a little worried that I might be on the receiving end of some jabs, burps and farts.  As it turns out, though, Andrew and Christopher were most gracious.  They treated me like a piece of fine china.  After having experienced Dad giving me a bath, believe me their care was appreciated!

I also got to meet a nice lady named Sandy.  She's my godmother.  She was standing with us when the pastor guy doused me with the water.  Afterwords she spent lots of time making sure I was okay.  Very sweet.  Plus she gave me presents!

I live in the same house with my Mim and my Poppi, which is great because they love me a bunch.  But the neat thing about this weekend was that I got to see my Grandma and Grandpa who live far away.  That means I spent the weekend with all four of my grandparents!  That's a lot of grandparents!

Discovery

I made the neatest discovery the other day.  My tongue.  I can stick it out.  Daddy says I look like a frog and that it must be the flies in my tummy that make me cry.  That's just silly.  I'm just doing vocal exercises for choir.

Take me to the river

Road trip!

The whole family packed up and hit the road for Alexandria, MN last weekend to see Grandma and Grandpa. Mom, Dad and I went up on Friday and Mim, Poppi, Auntie Ninja  and our friend Lynx came up Saturday. I thought we were just going to visit Grandma and Grandpa and go to church, but then all the Worleys started rehearsing a song. They said it was for my baptism. Baptism?

I was told it was like the Dedication we did the previous weekend. Well, all right, just another opportunity for me to be the center of attention for an adoring public. Plus, Mom had a pretty sharp outfit for me to wear. Anyway, we're all up front in the church and the sacred words are being said, and I'm having a good time, nodding at all the things Mom and Dad are supposed to do for me and then...WHAT THE...water! The pastor starts ladleing water over my head. I wasn't ready for that, but handled it with a certain amount of grace, you might say. Afterwards, though, there was cake and presents!

You can see video of the Baptism ceremony here, and watch the song that Grandpa, Dad and Mom sang for me while Grandma played the piano here. Also, check out some of the photos below from the day.

Here I am mentally rehearsing my lines before the ceremony.

Here's Dad with my cake and our father and son motto.

Great. My auntie is a ninja and my cousin is a vampire!

I'm Dedicated

I have to admit, I'm a pretty dedicated guy. My philosophy is to keep things simple, so it's easy for me to focus on just a few things: sleeping, getting fed, pooping. Oh, and trying to get my way, I guess. Somewhere around the bottom of that list is updating this blog, but I apologize for not letting you know of a couple of big events from last weekend.

One, my great-grandma, Poppi's mom, came to see me for the first time, all the way from some place called Missouri. I couldn't find it on a map, I suppose someone will have to show me. On top of that, I got "dedicated" to God. That's a good thing, too, since I had a word or two with the Big Guy (not Poppi) right before He sent me here.

Everyone was there: Great-grandma, Poppi, Grandma Mim, Mom, Dad, Auntie Ninja...and a girl named Lynx. I thought that with a name like that she was also a blogger, but she says no. Anyway, it was a very nice ceremony, and very touching. I could have cried, but I didn't. If you weren't there, you can see for yourself here:

Monday

Goodness me, I do apologize.  It's  been days since I put fingers to keyboard.  I could come up with some snappy excuse (like a complete lack of hand-eye coordination, countless hours spent sleeping, restless bowels, milk binge), but I won't.  I just didn't write anything.  Full stop.

But today is a new day!  Even though it's almost over.  And it was a fine day indeed.  I met my uncle Chris for the first time and he briefly cured my hiccups.  Nice guy.  I went on a walk around Lake Como with my parents.  Dad kept making rude remarks about the awful stench.  I swear it was the lake and not me!  And now I'm home, everything is rosy and swell, and I'm feelin' a powerful urge to close my eyes.

Splish-splash

Yes, I know that it wasn't that long ago when my head was "under water" non-stop. That doesn't mean, however, that I enjoy having my head close to water now. In particular, those early shampoos were quite stressful and I'm afraid I was a bit pointed in my protests. I like to think, however, that I've matured since those early days.

Take my last shampoo, for example. Now, I could have gotten a bit huffy when I heard the water running and when Mom picked me up, just as I have before. The thing is, I originally didn't know that Mom was a professional. Once I remembered that she'd been to beauty school and had a lot of practice in washing hair it was all cool. We both enjoyed it, and someone took a picture after my first "fuss-free" bath.

It was great, and now I'm really interested in meeting a certain Mr. Henri.

Naps

Mom and Dad really seem to be hung up on napping these days.  Not their own, but mine.  I wake up from a nap and before I can down a bit of milk, kick back and relax a bit, they're putting me back to bed.  I like a good nap as much as the next guy, but it's getting a bit ridiculous.  So periodically I've been hinting at my displeasure.  You'd think an hour of shouting bloody murder would get the point across, but they just smile, burp me, kiss me, and put me back.  Hard-headed people.

Thank you for your support

I guess I've really arrived as a blogger now that I've received my first link. Not only that, but it appears that I'm also being put forward as a candidate to be the next mayor of the MOB. I suppose I'd actually have to join the MOB in order to be official, though there's a good chance I've been grandfathered in, so to speak.

I don't know if MOB Mayor is a post I want to pursue, but I'll form an exploratory committe to look into it. One of the first things I want them to explore is if I have any relations in the Dayton family who can bankroll my campaign. I can, however, produce a birth certificate.

What do you think of this photo for a campaign poster? I think I look rather Churchillian, if I say so myself.

My comment policy

It was brought to my attention that the identity protocols for would-be commenters on this blog were sub-optimal, and may have kept well-meaning folks from sharing their insight.

I checked things out and, sure enough, the original set-up sucked. (I'm told that word means something is bad, but sucking seems like a pretty good thing from my perspective. Oh well.) Anyway, once I realized there was a problem, I had my people take care of it pretty darn tout de suite, let me tell you. Now, should you care to comment, there will be less foofaraw.

Carry on.

I get MOBbed!

The way it was explained to me, many members of the Minnesota Organization of Bloggers (MOB) used to meet to play trivia at Keegan's Irish Pub, and Poppi and Daddy first met each other there. That eventually led to Daddy meeting Mommy, then Mommy and Daddy getting married, and that led to me getting here. I'm not sure exactly how all that works, but apparently there was no question that I was going to make my public debut at the MOB summer party last night, which also happened to be at Keegan's.

Ok, I can roll with that. Since I had an audience and it's an Irish pub I delivered my rendition of "Oh Danny Boy". Mom and Grandma Mim like it.

Baby's got pipes!

It was an interesting evening. I got to meet Mitch, Joel Rosenberg, Mr & Mrs  Dilettante, Uncle Strommie and Margaret and many more. I'd like to say I read all their blogs, but really, I only have time to pay attention to this blog in between eating, sleeping and, well, pooping.

Ok, let's get this baby off the ground!

Hey, take me over there! It looks like Mommy has some ribs.

Actually, it looks like Daddy has some ribs, too. Mine!

Tidbits

Wow, today the weirdest thing had happened.  This lady came over (that's not too weird) and kept pointing this flashy thing at me.  *click* *click* *click*.  I was trying to take a nap and she just kept pestering me.  I thought about driving her off with a nice volley of nuclear crying, but decided to go the softer route: I acted all cute and sleepy.  Eventually she got the point and cleared out. 

P.S. By the way, I went on my first elevator yesterday. Not exactly a laugh riot, but I wasn't going to try the roller coaster just yet.

P.P.S. Doggone it, I hate it when I request service and get ignored.  It chaps my hide.

Are you going to eat that?

They put me on the scale again today.

I didn't just tip it, I darn near tipped it over.

I'm now at 10 pounds, 9 ounces -- up 10 ounces from last week.

And they won't even let me have bacon yet!

Hunger

Guest Post by Dad

Baby Moose has graciously allowed me to share some thoughts on his blog.  Today: Hunger.

When he is hungry Baby Moose does not get angry or demanding.  Not right away at any rate.  The surest sign of hunger is that he will hit his face.  Yep, he hits his face as if to say, "I want me some food and here's where I want it!"  At first it seemed a bit strange, but now I'm grateful for the clear signal.

If ignored for too long he will start getting indignant.  This isn't a point of no return, however.  If sung to he will settle down again and maybe even fall asleep if the melody is sweet.

On the other hand, giving him kisses just makes him angrier.  "I don't want your affection.  I want food.  And for the love of Pete, make it snappy!"  Obviously we try to avoid any "angry elf" situations. 

So there you go, that's the nutshell of hunger.

---------------------

P.S. Here are the words to one of those delaying tactic songs.  Lyrical inspiration: Auntie Ninja.

Feed me num nums foolish mortal.  Feed me num nums or you die.

I have had enough of waiting.  You don't need to ask why.

Give me something for my belly or I'll kick you in the shin.

Feed me num nums foolish mortal.  Put the milk right in.

Author, author!

This blogging thing is pretty easy. So easy, in fact, that I'm considering writing a book. I just have to decide whether it's going to be all about me, or just mostly about me. I'll let you know what I decide. For now, however, I'm greatly encouraged that I've already got an author photo picked out for the back cover.

Rush Limbaugh, eat your heart out!

Reading comprehension

I've been told that it is not common for newly-born babies to pick up the whole reading/writing/blogging thing as quickly as I have. I don't know what to say about that, since I only have my own experience to date to go on. I'm also aware that I still have much to learn.

For example, I'm discovering that many words look and sound the same, but that meaning can change based on context. I've also learned that something that looks or sounds good in writing might not be as appealing in practice. For example:

Ok, "butt paste" sounds kind of gross, but it feels SO good. "Butt rub" sounds as if it would feel good, but -- trust me -- it's not the same. Why would they even take a chance of confusing someone like that?

Motorcycle (grand)mamas

I only know two grandmas so far, but I have to say that mine are pretty cool. I admit, it's a small sample size, so tell me: does your grandmother do this?

If this is what my grandmothers are like, I can't wait to meet my GREAT-grandmothers!

Musical tastes

Okay, Dad is what the old-timers call "a card." Today during a - um - wardrobe change, he starts singing "Dirty Deeds, Done Dirt Cheap." Feh.

If you're going to go all AC/DC, grandma and me prefer "For Those About to Rock."

I blame the deep-dish pizza

Another car trip today, this time to see the mid-wife. She put me on the scale and I'm up one pound and two ounces since I was born 9 days ago! I've already outgrown some of my onesies before I've even had a chance to wear them!

I don't get it - dad and I both get up to eat in the middle of the night, and he never gains an ounce!

The Sunday Drive

Today was another day of firsts.  First, they took me through "the door."  I went blind like I was back in my old apartment, except this time it was from brightness.  I can't say that I much cared for that.

Then Mom and Dad took me on a "Sunday drive."  They tied me into a seat and turned me backwards so that I couldn't see where I was going.  Were they trying to get me lost?  They needn't have worried; my sense of direction is basically nil at this point and I can get lost on the top of our bed.  No matter. 

Then we went into another house with other people.  There sure seem to be a lot of people around.  And they are new every day.  Some of them hold me and some just look.  The littler ones look nervous.  It's funny though, even the littler ones are huge.  I sure am small.

Silent like the ninja

I worked on my martial arts skills constantly when I was in the womb. There was little else to do, and I knew Auntie Ninja was waiting for me so that gave me extra motivation to work on my kicks, punches and spins. Finally today Auntie and I got to try out our ninja moves on each other in the upstairs dojo. Ok, she's got an advantage over me with the nunchacku since I didn't have a chance to practice with those. All in all, though, I think I held my own, though she may have been going easy on me.

Here's a picture of Auntie Ninja helping me work on my "stealthy waiting" skills.

Oops

Today daddy left me on the bed without a diaper on....  I didn't try to do it.

The new sheets are very soft.

A Question to Ponder

Mom used to not be mom.  She was something else.  She went to beauty school.  It worked; she is definitely beautiful!

Anyways, she gave me a manicure tonight.  Maybe I've been spending too much time in the man cave?

My first trip to the Man Cave

Is there no end to all this new stuff? I was just hanging with mom and some other people with higher pitched voices. Then dad scoops me and says something about too much est.., estra..., estro...I don't know! I mean, I only learned to type earlier today!

Anyway, next thing I know we're going down, down, down. It's kind of dark and smells ... I don't have a word for that either but this single little hair popped up on my chest. That big guy is down here, the one with the fluffy face. He and dad are staring at this wall-like thing with all these nice colors moving around. It's pretty, I guess, but it doesn't make me want to clap and yell like the big people are doing as they stare at it. Easily amused, I suppose.

Then, pardon me, but I burp. It came out of nowhere. I am mortified. Then dad and the other guy laugh, and then they burp, too. Hey, I think I like it here!

Questions

'Round these parts there's a saying: All baby. All the time.

And there's a litany of questions:

• When was the last time I pooped?
• How much did I poop?
• What color was my poop?
• Did it smell?
• Did I pee too?
• Did I nurse?
• How long did I nurse?
• Did I sleep?
• How long did I sleep?

Then, when they're not asking the questions they sit and stare at me. And then, more peoples come and they do it all over again.
Don't these people have jobs?

Here I Am

Here's the deal. I got born the other day. Tough stuff that. But I'm not complaining.

Anyway, everyone has been pestering me about blogging. "Your family's all bloggy. Are you bloggy?" Well, strictly speaking, no. I'm more into naps and, (this is so embarrassing,) pooping.

But there's nothing wrong with having a spot to collect some info and pictures and such. And why not here? And maybe I'll grow into it.

By the way, Great Aunt Sandi helped with the blog title. Daddy says it's a double entendre. I have no idea what he's talking about so I just smiled and nodded.