Some Personal Space, Please...

Wet Baby

I know my Dad's favourite part of the day. Bathtime!

Every couple days, I get kinda dirty and Mum and Dad like to put me in this pit and fill it with this wet stuff. They say it's water and I have to say that I'm not too sure about how it tastes. I keep licking it when it gets near my mouth or sometimes I can bring a wet hand to my lips and give it a good tasting. My verdict: more tasting required.

Dad is always in the tub first. I think he has to check it out for sharks and piranhas. Mum brings me naked (brr) to Dad and then he just plops me in. After all the soaping and rinsing, Dad lets me play around in the tub. I float easily in the water since, let's face it, I'm a chubby dude. (That said, I have no problem attracting the ladies.) I like to splash around and kick my legs and lap up more water and then, when I'm just getting started, it's over. Dad puts me in Mum's arms and then I get wrapped up in a towel. From there, things get kinda... yawn... blurry...

zzzzzz...

A Quiet Plea For Help

Why Buy the Cow...

...when you can get the milk for free.

They tried to fool me. They thought I wasn't the smartest baby that ever did baby, but boy were they wrong! Mom and Dad left me at Grandma and Grandpa's last night and disappeared. I only noticed when I got hungry and Grandma tried to shove this thing in my mouth. But I get my food from Mommy. It has that Mommy smell and taste. This stuff didn't taste right at all! Blech!!

I cried and cried so much that I had Grandpa running in circles around the dining room with me. Hee. If I wasn't so upset, it might have been funny. But somehow, Mommy and Daddy knew how upset I was and came home early.

They love me.

BOOBY!!!

Babble

Dad says he wanted to leave a comment on my blog but he couldn't because you needed to be a member of blogger. I had set it that way because I didn't want too much spam in the comments. I changed it now so that anyone can comment but if there gets to be too much garbage, I'll have to turn it back off.

So, feel free to drop me a line...

Bedtime

I Need to Eat More Apples

Mom took me on a trip yesterday. I didn't want to go at first, but as soon as we got outside, it was so bright I had to close my eyes, and then I got sooo sleepy, and next thing I knew, we were in this bright room. The walls were white and there was this old guy behind a desk talking to Mom. They were talking about me! Did I have a cold? Was I sleeping normally? Did I poop regularly? How often did I eat? That reminded me that I was HUNGRY! MO-OM! FEED ME! So Mom gave me some lunch, but it went by so quick! I was still hungry when she took it away and brought me to this bed. It was black and sorta comfy. Then she took off my shirt. I was naked! How could she do that to me in front of strangers?!?

The man came in and shone a light in my eyes. Then he rang a bell on either side of my head. It was wierd. He poked around my tummy and it tickled. Then he grabbed my legs and jiggled them around so much it hurt! I let Mom know that I hated that part. Then he put this wooden stick next to me. Not sure what he meant by 23 inches. After checking my ears, the man lifted me up and put me on this metal thingy that was kinda cold. I heard him say something about 12 pounds and 5 ounces. Mom seemed really surprised by that. Then I was allowed to get dressed, so Mom helped me put my arms and head through the holes in my shirt. Then we left.

Overall, our trip was kinda fun, but I'd rather not do it too often. Someone mentioned eating an apple a day. Not sure what that has to do with anything.

Two Eyes, A Nose And A Hand Socket

I think I've got it now. Mum and Dad both have those same features. There's the two dark spots that follow me around as I squirm. Then there's the bump in the middle that I like to grab at. Finally, they both have a part that opens and closes and makes the sound. All sorts of people seem to have these same features. I stare at them until I think I know which parts are which; I've got it down now. I recently saw myself in the mirror and saw that I had those same parts. I'm even starting to be able to find them with my hands.

Once, when I was trying to rub my eyes, someone punched me! I looked to see who did it but they were gone. I tried to rub my eyes again and I got punched in the head yet again. I tried to spot them but they were just too fast. Whoever it is, they're in BIG trouble!

Some Days Are Better Than Others

When you're this cute, they call you Mr.

I may have been a little groggy from the loopy drugs they gave Mom, but I'm pretty sure that when Mom and Dad introduced me to all those strange folks, they called me Ben. Now, I'm not so sure. They keep calling me Mr. Baby. I think I prefer the latter, cuz really, who doesn't prefer being called "Mr."

Hee hee. I keep playing this great joke on Mom. First, I cry, pretending I'm hungry. Then, while she feeds me, I pretend to be asleep. When she puts me down, I cry again, and just watch her reaction! Man, it's priceless. I could do this all day! Oh wait, I did. Hee.

Steep Curve Ahead

Let's make a list of skills I've gained since birth...

Rubbing own eyes
Visually tracking objects
Turning towards sounds

I think that's about it. That's all of them, right?

Look at me!

Me and Mommy

Me and Daddy

Flora messed up my hair

I swear it wasn't me!

Starting Out

Dad says I should keep a journal as I grow up so I decided to be 21st century about this and start a blog. The keyboard is definitely not designed with infants in mind so please forgive any typos.

Let's bring everyone up to speed with my story so far, ok?

I was born on July 2nd, 2005. Mom started feeling contractions around 11pm on July 1st. She started to time them around midnight and by 1am they were close enough together that we needed to get to the hospital. At 3am, Mom got an epidural. That was totally trippy! At 9:01am, I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. I poop when I get nervous and just before being born I recall being really nervous about meeting Mom. What if she didn't like me? What if I said something stupid? With all my anxiety built up, I totally pooped in utero (sorry, I'm still using foetal slang). The doctors didn't want me to cry at birth in case I breathed it into my lungs and got an infection. Lucky for me, I didn't. Next thing I know, I'm being flung at my Mom like a sack of potatoes (I'm assuming about the potatoes thing; newborns only know metaphors if they're cliche).

I got rinsed off and checked for anything abnormal (I was pretty average: 7lbs 4oz, 20"). That went pretty quick and the doctors brought me back to Mom in a bit more civilised manner. I have to admit that I wasn't sure who the lady was but I just snuggled whoever was closest and trusted the doctors that it was Mom.

A few seconds later, this guy got all up in my face. Mom tells me that he's "Dad". At first, I'm like, "What is a Dad?" but he's got that muffled not-Mom voice I've been hearing for the last few months. I just thought Mom liked to do impressions or something. Anyways, he turned out to be okay, I guess. We stayed at the hospital for a couple days and then they let me out. They gave me some cool threads. I got a cool hat and a killer shirt that looks totally like Luke's on Tatooine.

And that's the story of how I got started...