coo's from the crib (or, my life as a baby): August 2005

idiot dad

over this past weekend, i was introduced to the world of the highchair (courtesy of my mommy's mommy and daddy). so dad put my own together last night and everyone was very excited to see me in it. however, rather than taking a picture that showed the full scope of this new contraption, he decided to take this pic that focused on my head. i hate this angle of me. why couldn't he take the picture on my good side? and i'm not too fond of yellow, either. good thing you only get a glimpse of my sleeper.

my chosen path

i finally realized what i want to do with my life!

this weekend, daddy was flipping around the channels and came across this little blond girl that seems to be in a lot of movies. you know her as dakota fanning, but daddy must be great friends with her because he refers to her as that spooky little freak.

so anyway, after looking at her for a bit, i realized that i'm way cuter than her. and acting is easy. i act hungry and a bottle gets shoved in my mouth. i act tired and my parents put me in bed. its gotta be easy. and i'm sure that mommy and daddy can manage all the money that i'll make. we have it made.

my little secret

i don't know if anyone's picked up on this yet, but i'm not even a real baby. i'm a small adult. i can stand up on my own. and talk. i can even wipe my own ass. i just choose not to do it in front of anyone yet. i am super advanced for my age and could probably strike out on my own to be a contributing member of society, but i'm really into being pampered right now.

when my parents leave the room, i just have to stretch out my legs.

i need a new interpreter

i've just about had it. last night, my father just wasn't getting it.

"father" is a new word for me by the way. it just seems a bit too formal for me to use it on that guy. i mean, really, father makes me think of an adult, and do adults play video games and read comic books? no. i think i'll just call him pa. but then, does that make me sound like a hick?

anyways...he was trying to feed me that paste again. he's only done it a handful of times, but i'll give him a B for effort. i like his approach, but dammit if he doesn't feed me fast enough. you'd think my grunting would get his attention. but, he's too damned concentrated on getting nice little portions on the spoon. i don't really care, just throw some junk on the damn thing and stick in my mouth. half of it comes back out on my chin anyway! do i have to do everything myself?

lets all say it together....

uuuuhhhhhhhhnnnnnngnt! means...feed me now, dammit!

fast friends

so i'm assuming that this is something that happens pretty often...but have you ever struck up a conversation with a stranger and it turns out you have a lot in common? a couple of weeks ago, i saw this strange looking guy in the corner and it seemed rather odd to me. just sitting there, all by his lonesome. well, i think he's a guy, but there's really no way to tell. anyway, i started feeling bad for him. kind of hairy. kind of bug-eyed. he looked like a nice enough guy, so i decided to start jabbering with him and wouldn't you know it....he's an awesome guy! and that stuff we have in common...we both like to lie around. we're both very animated. we both have toes, although i do have a couple more than him. and its really hard to comprehend what the hell either of us are talking about.

don't worry

no, i didn't break my neck. about a month ago, my folks were a little worried about my head/neck while i was sleeping in the car. i just couldn't keep it in a good position in their mind. but i hated this thing. it was so uncomfortable (and so much fun to play with) that i'd rip it from around my neck within seconds of them jamming it into position.

they've since returned it and got their money back in the form of a gift card. which, i believe daddy used to buy this year's edition of Madden football for his Xbox. he's such a smart shopper. i love him so much.

wow does time fly....

just 5 months ago today (correct if you're going by calendar, if counting weeks its 22 weeks tomorrow), i took my first breath outside the womb.

granted it was after a long, arduous journey. part of which, my mom was zonked out while my wee little head was being traumatized.

i don't even think she finished that popsickle. i promise that i'll never let one go to waste. especially cherry.

the good life

i don't know how other babies live, but i love the fact that i'm treated to lobster everyday.

child abuse

so my folks are introducing me to the world of paste they call cereal. i don't really know why they insist on shoving this stuff in my mouth anyway. i'm perfectly content with my milk.