Finally, the weather in whatever state we're in now has warmed up to the point that parkas have been put away and Mr. Sun has decided to make his appearance. So, Badger-face and Mommy pulled out this big inflatable raft that they filled with water, which seems to me to be contraindicated to its intended purpose. Then, they set me up with this sweet hat and a diaper that helps keep water out (again, contraindicated). I got into the raft and impressed both of my parents with my water treading ability.
Then we had to get out because I spit up a little into the pool water.
The bonus of all this is that Mommy managed to squirt Badger-face and the dog with my spit up water. It's always funny to see Daddy running around like a little girl.
Speaking of impressing those two, (easy, I know. Heck, I fart and they're impressed) I decided to throw them a bone this week. Mommy came into my room after my nap and, being the beefy guy that I am, pushed myself up onto my hands and knees, just to show off. She managed to take a picture of it to show Daddy and the two of them just guffawed. It's really cute when they get all excited like that...
Mommy's done with teaching school, which means she'll get to spend lots more time with me! I'm very excited about this as it means that I no longer have to go to work. Yes, I have a job. It mostly involves me keeping about 4 other kids entertained all day while Mommy and the Badger-face are at work or school or the mall or whatever it is they do all day. So, less work for me, except now I have to entertain Mommy all day. And Daddy all night. It's exhausting being a cute baby.
For now, they've left me at Grandma's house so they can run around "the city" and have a "date". I'm not sure why they couldn't take me with them if all they're going to do is eat small fruit, but whatever. It's nice over here.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Sunday, May 2, 2010
It has begun...
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
I have begun the first steps toward my eventual take over of the Earth. Mind you, I don't normally have aspirations of world domination, but this week has been a busy one and my typical peaceful demeanor has changed a little.
For starters, mommy picked me up a fantastic device at something called a "garage sale". I assumed it would be called a garage, but, alas, no. She calls it a walker, and it has 4 wheels, a tray and is built like a rock. I have decided that this is no ordinary walker, but a tank. A massive quad-wheeled weapon of mass destruction that will make the world tremble in fear of my awesome unstoppable blitzkrieg!
I've named her Doris.
Currently, my operational theater is limited to sorties against the dog, but as she tries to steal my thunder anyway, I find it amusing. As the dog goes about her daily routine, sleeping, eating, begging daddy for food and walkings, I take it upon myself to try out the capabilities of my wheeled juggernaut by following her and trying to grab her. But, since the tray sticks out really far, I'll have to settle for just running her over with it.
Also, the tray has a lot of room for my toys.
My ire has been flared by the arrival of what my "parents" have called "diaper rash". And not just any diaper rash, but the diaper rash from Hades. It hurts a lot. We had to see the doctor for it and he gave them this thick stuff that they have to smear on my butt when they change my diaper. It's humiliating! And I do not appreciate it! If I didn't love them so much, I would be quite miffed at them. That, and my fanny hurts.
The plus side is that I made a new friend today at the hospital. He's a nice, fluffy stuffed red guy that the nice people at the hospital introduced to me. He comforted me during my time of woe and for that, he has earned my trust. I have decided to call him Augustus.
Bed time! Maybe tomorrow will be a better, less angry day...
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
I have begun the first steps toward my eventual take over of the Earth. Mind you, I don't normally have aspirations of world domination, but this week has been a busy one and my typical peaceful demeanor has changed a little.
For starters, mommy picked me up a fantastic device at something called a "garage sale". I assumed it would be called a garage, but, alas, no. She calls it a walker, and it has 4 wheels, a tray and is built like a rock. I have decided that this is no ordinary walker, but a tank. A massive quad-wheeled weapon of mass destruction that will make the world tremble in fear of my awesome unstoppable blitzkrieg!
I've named her Doris.
Currently, my operational theater is limited to sorties against the dog, but as she tries to steal my thunder anyway, I find it amusing. As the dog goes about her daily routine, sleeping, eating, begging daddy for food and walkings, I take it upon myself to try out the capabilities of my wheeled juggernaut by following her and trying to grab her. But, since the tray sticks out really far, I'll have to settle for just running her over with it.
Also, the tray has a lot of room for my toys.
My ire has been flared by the arrival of what my "parents" have called "diaper rash". And not just any diaper rash, but the diaper rash from Hades. It hurts a lot. We had to see the doctor for it and he gave them this thick stuff that they have to smear on my butt when they change my diaper. It's humiliating! And I do not appreciate it! If I didn't love them so much, I would be quite miffed at them. That, and my fanny hurts.
The plus side is that I made a new friend today at the hospital. He's a nice, fluffy stuffed red guy that the nice people at the hospital introduced to me. He comforted me during my time of woe and for that, he has earned my trust. I have decided to call him Augustus.
Bed time! Maybe tomorrow will be a better, less angry day...
Sunday, April 25, 2010
The Nerd is Strong With This One
Dear Blogophiles,
Yes, it's been a while since I or my "father" blogged. Let's just move on.
I've been very busy growing and getting more awesome everyday (I say humbly). I've moved up to real food! With a spoon and everything! My liquid diet wasn't giving me the carbs and protein that I needed to maintain my beefiness. So, I've had to bump up my eating regimen to include fruits and veggies. So far my favorites are peaches, squash, and avocado.
Also, I've begun doing crunches and turning over from belly to back and back to belly. It's a hard workout, but I've got to keep at my maximum beefcake level so I can beat daddy up when I get older.
And by "older" I mean in a few weeks.
All this beefing up has paid off, since I can also sit up almost all by myself. Soon, I'll be scooting along and then begging to use daddy's car, staying out until all hours and running with a bad crowd. At least, that's what mommy's books say I'm going to do if I don't watch my Baby Einstein DVD's.
Speaking of DVD's, mommy decided she needed something called a "me day" the other day. Apparently, this day involves mommy leaving me with the dead badger faced guy all day while she went to what daddy called "a tent revival that will turn into a goat sacrifice." Mommy keeps telling him that it's a lesson from some religious person. I'm not really sure what the "religion" stuff is except that church is a place to sleep for me and daddy.
But, when he left, daddy (after yelling "finally" at the top of his lungs) sat me down on the floor and decided to introduce me to a few of his favorite movies. Over the rest of the day, we watched a bunch of movies about aliens and spaceships and Sigourney Weaver. I really like her. Though what she's doing working beneath her talent in those movies is beyond me. I mostly didn't pay attention, though, since I was busy working out my new method of scientific inquiry.
My method involves 4 stages each more intensive than the last. It's a new way to look at the world around us and is guaranteed to revolutionize the scientific community. Here are the steps:
1. Observability. First, you find what you want to study, say, a bunch of plastic keys or a fistful of mommy's hair. Look at the object and ascertain it's distance from you.
2. Grabitude. Next, grab the object with your pincers and hold onto it for all your worth. For best results, try to grab something small and easily manipulable, like a fistful of mommy's hair.
3. Omnomability. Third, bring to your mouth and om nom it. Try to get as much of the object into your mouth as possible, pulling it there as hard as you can. Again, mommy's hair is excellent for this.
4. Throwination. Last, toss the object as hard as you can. This works best by tossing it away at the most inopportune moment. I've gotten very interesting data from flinging Mortimer out of my crib at night and then crying loudly since Mortimer has suddenly disappeared. It makes daddy very happy.
So, there. I've blogged again. Maybe, since daddy is moving into his summer schedule I can use his laptop a little more frequently to blog a bit more.
Yes, it's been a while since I or my "father" blogged. Let's just move on.
I've been very busy growing and getting more awesome everyday (I say humbly). I've moved up to real food! With a spoon and everything! My liquid diet wasn't giving me the carbs and protein that I needed to maintain my beefiness. So, I've had to bump up my eating regimen to include fruits and veggies. So far my favorites are peaches, squash, and avocado.
Also, I've begun doing crunches and turning over from belly to back and back to belly. It's a hard workout, but I've got to keep at my maximum beefcake level so I can beat daddy up when I get older.
And by "older" I mean in a few weeks.
All this beefing up has paid off, since I can also sit up almost all by myself. Soon, I'll be scooting along and then begging to use daddy's car, staying out until all hours and running with a bad crowd. At least, that's what mommy's books say I'm going to do if I don't watch my Baby Einstein DVD's.
Speaking of DVD's, mommy decided she needed something called a "me day" the other day. Apparently, this day involves mommy leaving me with the dead badger faced guy all day while she went to what daddy called "a tent revival that will turn into a goat sacrifice." Mommy keeps telling him that it's a lesson from some religious person. I'm not really sure what the "religion" stuff is except that church is a place to sleep for me and daddy.
But, when he left, daddy (after yelling "finally" at the top of his lungs) sat me down on the floor and decided to introduce me to a few of his favorite movies. Over the rest of the day, we watched a bunch of movies about aliens and spaceships and Sigourney Weaver. I really like her. Though what she's doing working beneath her talent in those movies is beyond me. I mostly didn't pay attention, though, since I was busy working out my new method of scientific inquiry.
My method involves 4 stages each more intensive than the last. It's a new way to look at the world around us and is guaranteed to revolutionize the scientific community. Here are the steps:
1. Observability. First, you find what you want to study, say, a bunch of plastic keys or a fistful of mommy's hair. Look at the object and ascertain it's distance from you.
2. Grabitude. Next, grab the object with your pincers and hold onto it for all your worth. For best results, try to grab something small and easily manipulable, like a fistful of mommy's hair.
3. Omnomability. Third, bring to your mouth and om nom it. Try to get as much of the object into your mouth as possible, pulling it there as hard as you can. Again, mommy's hair is excellent for this.
4. Throwination. Last, toss the object as hard as you can. This works best by tossing it away at the most inopportune moment. I've gotten very interesting data from flinging Mortimer out of my crib at night and then crying loudly since Mortimer has suddenly disappeared. It makes daddy very happy.
So, there. I've blogged again. Maybe, since daddy is moving into his summer schedule I can use his laptop a little more frequently to blog a bit more.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Haters Be Tryin' To Silence My Game
Dear Blog-o-sphere,
I've had a time of major discoveries!
First, it appears that on the ends of the things that are attached to me near my head are small, multi-pronged apparatuses. There I was, minding my own business, doing what I do best, then, BAM! My eyes dart to those... things. I ask myself, "What is this magical thing in my throne with me? It does seems to flail around a lot." I stared at it for some time trying to deduce what it's for. Then (shock and horror!), a second one appeared. Still not quite sure what that are for, but I am working on solving that mystery.
Second, the hairy man and the nice lady took me to see the man in the green onesie again. This time he had another objective in mind. I needed to have my tongue clipped. I believe that his ultimate goal on this trip was to silence my wails for food or someone to wipe up my doodie. They said that I had to have my tongue clipped since it had grown incorrectly, but I debate this. I feel my tongue worked fine before. It flopped about and made a wonderful scream when I wanted it to. "But, it might cause you to have a speech impediment when you get older," they said. Well, I would have none of it! I decided to rebel and not get this elective surgery! That's a slippery slope. First, it's tongue clipping, then tummy tuck, then breast implants, then Rod Stewart-ictomies.
It seems my rebellion was short lived, however. I got my tongue clipped and feel no different than I did before. Soon, I'll have no choice but to belt out "Hot Legs" at the top of my wonderful singing voice.
Then, they took me to this place, woke me up from a peaceful slumber, and some lady started jabbing needles into me! They said it was my "shots" and that I "needed them". I think mommy needed them more than I did, because she almost cried when I got them. I screamed a bit because they did hurt, but not as bad as mommy made it seem.
Next, there is this amazing thing that has happened over the course of my time here. Where once the ground outside of my new humble abode (I liked the decor of my old one better, by the way. Nice shag carpet and everything) was lush and verdant, now it's changed to this powdery white substance that is very cold and a little wet. Of course, I don't get to see much of this stuff up close, since the nice lady and the hairy guy cover me up anytime we go out. But, if I scream enough, they carry me to the thing they call "windows" and let me look at it. It's bright and shiny and sparkles (daddy says, like a vampire. I don't know what he means.) Well, now it's everywhere daddy shovels it away from the house, but it keeps coming back. Mommy is excited about it because she "doesn't have to go back to that hellhole" (again, no idea what that means).
Finally, I've noticed a curious phenomenon. It seems that almost every time I go to sleep these days, I wake up in a different place. First, sleep, then, in the car.
Sleep, in some sort of bright building with things to buy.
Sleep, then in a metal tube that the hairy guy tells me is "30,000 feet in the air". Sometimes, I think he's insane. So, I yelled really loud to let him and everyone else in the tube know this. He was not amused and passed me to the nice lady.
Sleep, somewhere they say is Houston. I got to see Grandma and Grandpa West again and that was nice. I finally got to meet my Uncle Jay and Aunt Ashley. Uncle Jay is just as hairy as daddy is! I also got to meet my great grandpa. He seems like a nice guy. Although he did call me "Britches" a lot. I think it's because I was wearing my good pants at the time. I tried to explain that my name is Jack, but he had none of it.
Sleep, back in the metal tube. Daddy said that we were going back home, but one look out the window told me he was lying again. After all, it was just the sky and that wasn't moving. So, this time I not only yelled to tell him that he was insane, I pooped too. That'll show him! Well, he took me into this small room and started to change me. Then, the room started rocking back and forth, making daddy stumble a bit. Must have been some sort of amusement ride...
Sleep, back home.
Sleep, back in a metal tube. More very loud explaining that daddy is insane. More angry looks from everyone else.
Sleep, somewhere called Washington, D.C. It seems that this is the headquarters of a lot of high paid architects and builders. Everything there is ornate or under construction. Or both. There was this big guy sitting on a chair in a building, a big building with lots of steps and, as daddy put it, "filled with fat cats and pork". I told him that if they got rid of the pork in there, that the fat cats would leave. Or lose some weight. He smiled and kissed my forehead. I also spent some time with my Aunt Sara, Uncle Nick, and cousin Ella. I don't know what it is about the ladies, but they love me. Even the girls at my babysitter's think that I'm the bees knees. I have to tell them to back off sometimes and let the playa play.
Sleep, metal tube. Loud explaining of how hungry I am. Daddy looks for the nearest exit to jump out of.
It seems all of this time and space warping while I sleep is caused by a magical entity called "Jesus" and a time called "Christmas". From what I have gathered, he was born around this time a long time ago along with his buddies Santa Claus and Rudolph (he's a red-nosed reindeer it seems.) Mostly, people celebrate his birth by buying gifts for each other, crippling themselves by falling off of ladders while hanging lights that have nothing to do with Jesus, crippling themselves with debt from the lights and gifts, and eating and drinking to excess (possibly in honor of the spartan lifestyle that Jesus led.)
Daddy made sure that I finished this blog before I could go to bed. I'm very sleepy now. I'll try to blog more often, but I've been very busy keeping daddy up all night crying for food while letting mommy sleep. What can I say? I'm a giver. It's a Christmas present for her.
I've had a time of major discoveries!
First, it appears that on the ends of the things that are attached to me near my head are small, multi-pronged apparatuses. There I was, minding my own business, doing what I do best, then, BAM! My eyes dart to those... things. I ask myself, "What is this magical thing in my throne with me? It does seems to flail around a lot." I stared at it for some time trying to deduce what it's for. Then (shock and horror!), a second one appeared. Still not quite sure what that are for, but I am working on solving that mystery.
Second, the hairy man and the nice lady took me to see the man in the green onesie again. This time he had another objective in mind. I needed to have my tongue clipped. I believe that his ultimate goal on this trip was to silence my wails for food or someone to wipe up my doodie. They said that I had to have my tongue clipped since it had grown incorrectly, but I debate this. I feel my tongue worked fine before. It flopped about and made a wonderful scream when I wanted it to. "But, it might cause you to have a speech impediment when you get older," they said. Well, I would have none of it! I decided to rebel and not get this elective surgery! That's a slippery slope. First, it's tongue clipping, then tummy tuck, then breast implants, then Rod Stewart-ictomies.
It seems my rebellion was short lived, however. I got my tongue clipped and feel no different than I did before. Soon, I'll have no choice but to belt out "Hot Legs" at the top of my wonderful singing voice.
Then, they took me to this place, woke me up from a peaceful slumber, and some lady started jabbing needles into me! They said it was my "shots" and that I "needed them". I think mommy needed them more than I did, because she almost cried when I got them. I screamed a bit because they did hurt, but not as bad as mommy made it seem.
Next, there is this amazing thing that has happened over the course of my time here. Where once the ground outside of my new humble abode (I liked the decor of my old one better, by the way. Nice shag carpet and everything) was lush and verdant, now it's changed to this powdery white substance that is very cold and a little wet. Of course, I don't get to see much of this stuff up close, since the nice lady and the hairy guy cover me up anytime we go out. But, if I scream enough, they carry me to the thing they call "windows" and let me look at it. It's bright and shiny and sparkles (daddy says, like a vampire. I don't know what he means.) Well, now it's everywhere daddy shovels it away from the house, but it keeps coming back. Mommy is excited about it because she "doesn't have to go back to that hellhole" (again, no idea what that means).
Finally, I've noticed a curious phenomenon. It seems that almost every time I go to sleep these days, I wake up in a different place. First, sleep, then, in the car.
Sleep, in some sort of bright building with things to buy.
Sleep, then in a metal tube that the hairy guy tells me is "30,000 feet in the air". Sometimes, I think he's insane. So, I yelled really loud to let him and everyone else in the tube know this. He was not amused and passed me to the nice lady.
Sleep, somewhere they say is Houston. I got to see Grandma and Grandpa West again and that was nice. I finally got to meet my Uncle Jay and Aunt Ashley. Uncle Jay is just as hairy as daddy is! I also got to meet my great grandpa. He seems like a nice guy. Although he did call me "Britches" a lot. I think it's because I was wearing my good pants at the time. I tried to explain that my name is Jack, but he had none of it.
Sleep, back in the metal tube. Daddy said that we were going back home, but one look out the window told me he was lying again. After all, it was just the sky and that wasn't moving. So, this time I not only yelled to tell him that he was insane, I pooped too. That'll show him! Well, he took me into this small room and started to change me. Then, the room started rocking back and forth, making daddy stumble a bit. Must have been some sort of amusement ride...
Sleep, back home.
Sleep, back in a metal tube. More very loud explaining that daddy is insane. More angry looks from everyone else.
Sleep, somewhere called Washington, D.C. It seems that this is the headquarters of a lot of high paid architects and builders. Everything there is ornate or under construction. Or both. There was this big guy sitting on a chair in a building, a big building with lots of steps and, as daddy put it, "filled with fat cats and pork". I told him that if they got rid of the pork in there, that the fat cats would leave. Or lose some weight. He smiled and kissed my forehead. I also spent some time with my Aunt Sara, Uncle Nick, and cousin Ella. I don't know what it is about the ladies, but they love me. Even the girls at my babysitter's think that I'm the bees knees. I have to tell them to back off sometimes and let the playa play.
Sleep, metal tube. Loud explaining of how hungry I am. Daddy looks for the nearest exit to jump out of.
It seems all of this time and space warping while I sleep is caused by a magical entity called "Jesus" and a time called "Christmas". From what I have gathered, he was born around this time a long time ago along with his buddies Santa Claus and Rudolph (he's a red-nosed reindeer it seems.) Mostly, people celebrate his birth by buying gifts for each other, crippling themselves by falling off of ladders while hanging lights that have nothing to do with Jesus, crippling themselves with debt from the lights and gifts, and eating and drinking to excess (possibly in honor of the spartan lifestyle that Jesus led.)
Daddy made sure that I finished this blog before I could go to bed. I'm very sleepy now. I'll try to blog more often, but I've been very busy keeping daddy up all night crying for food while letting mommy sleep. What can I say? I'm a giver. It's a Christmas present for her.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
A Baby's Lament
Dear Blog,
Once again I find myself in need of venting my frustration. The hairy one and the nice lady have switched my bi-hourly regiment of liquid diet from the divine ambrosia that I was receiving to some sort of poor substitute. It smells a little like garbage juice, you know, the puddle of yuck at the bottom of the trash can when you take it out to the curb and as you put it down it tips over and spills all on your newly laundered pants right before you have to leave for work. I'm not sure what any of that means, but I heard "daddy" yelling about it one day.
Clearly, I didn't like this new stuff, but I thought I would humor my parents (they try so hard to please me, after all). After only a few attempts to grit my gums and suffer through it, I gave up. It tasted foul and, thus, I was forced to do the thing that any reasonable person would do: I started to regurgitate it in a most spectacular manner, all over the two of them, every time they tried to feed it to me, and fuss with out end.
Now, they have switched me to yet another substitute and this one is not so bad. I might still fling it back at them via my mouth just to let them know who is boss and keep them on their toes, but for the most part, I'll keep eating it.
They tricked me last night. One minute, I was sleeping, nice and cozy, on the nice lady's chest. The next: I'm in an unfamiliar place in a dark room, on a nice, comfy cushion. But, (horror of horrors!) I was alone!!! This would not stand. So, after a few seconds of wailing at the top of my lungs, the hairy one comes in and tries to placate me with Mortimer.
Glad you asked. Mortimer is my constant companion. I'm not sure what the technical term for it is (thus the name Mortimer), but it's this device that's simulates my feeding apparatus, but nothing comes out. In a way, it's something that gives me the illusion of being fed without being fed! Brilliant! Now I can "eat" without getting milk hips!
As I was saying, the quasi-ape tried to make me happy, but failed utterly. Finally, the nice lady came in and put me back in my throne where I belong. I go everywhere in my throne, so it only makes sense for me to sleep there.
I've also taken to a fun new game I have devised. When one of my parents is alone with me, and I know another of them is about to arrive, I unleash a cacophony of screams and wails the likes of which have not been heard in a fortnight. Then, when the other parent arrives in the room, I quickly silence myself. The effect of which is that the 2nd parent now thinks the 1st parent is insane for complaining about my crying. It's a real hoot!
Well, duty calls! My diaper has become full and I need for the nice lady to change me. Seriously. It's like Fallujah down there.
Until the future, dear blog.
Once again I find myself in need of venting my frustration. The hairy one and the nice lady have switched my bi-hourly regiment of liquid diet from the divine ambrosia that I was receiving to some sort of poor substitute. It smells a little like garbage juice, you know, the puddle of yuck at the bottom of the trash can when you take it out to the curb and as you put it down it tips over and spills all on your newly laundered pants right before you have to leave for work. I'm not sure what any of that means, but I heard "daddy" yelling about it one day.
Clearly, I didn't like this new stuff, but I thought I would humor my parents (they try so hard to please me, after all). After only a few attempts to grit my gums and suffer through it, I gave up. It tasted foul and, thus, I was forced to do the thing that any reasonable person would do: I started to regurgitate it in a most spectacular manner, all over the two of them, every time they tried to feed it to me, and fuss with out end.
Now, they have switched me to yet another substitute and this one is not so bad. I might still fling it back at them via my mouth just to let them know who is boss and keep them on their toes, but for the most part, I'll keep eating it.
They tricked me last night. One minute, I was sleeping, nice and cozy, on the nice lady's chest. The next: I'm in an unfamiliar place in a dark room, on a nice, comfy cushion. But, (horror of horrors!) I was alone!!! This would not stand. So, after a few seconds of wailing at the top of my lungs, the hairy one comes in and tries to placate me with Mortimer.
Glad you asked. Mortimer is my constant companion. I'm not sure what the technical term for it is (thus the name Mortimer), but it's this device that's simulates my feeding apparatus, but nothing comes out. In a way, it's something that gives me the illusion of being fed without being fed! Brilliant! Now I can "eat" without getting milk hips!
As I was saying, the quasi-ape tried to make me happy, but failed utterly. Finally, the nice lady came in and put me back in my throne where I belong. I go everywhere in my throne, so it only makes sense for me to sleep there.
I've also taken to a fun new game I have devised. When one of my parents is alone with me, and I know another of them is about to arrive, I unleash a cacophony of screams and wails the likes of which have not been heard in a fortnight. Then, when the other parent arrives in the room, I quickly silence myself. The effect of which is that the 2nd parent now thinks the 1st parent is insane for complaining about my crying. It's a real hoot!
Well, duty calls! My diaper has become full and I need for the nice lady to change me. Seriously. It's like Fallujah down there.
Until the future, dear blog.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
A Moment Of Your Time
Dearest Blog Readers,
It is with a heavy sense of humility that I, Dr. Jonathan M West, esq., becomes the newest member of this quaintly titled "Baby Blog". For several weeks now, I have been endeavoring to become the best baby that I can be. Pursuant to this, I have taken up the mantle of "Blog Writer" in addition to my other titles: "PhD", "Professor of Baby Studies, Harvard", and "Poop Factory". Therefore, in between my daily rituals of bowel evacuation, feedings, sleeping when my parents are awake, waking when my parents are sleeping, and transcendental meditation, I will be offering my commentary on the life of a modern infant.
I know that this electronic forum has devolved into a wasteland of mediocrity in the hands of my father, colloquially known as "Daddy", but I'm here to see that this kind of irresponsible blog writing will come to end.
First order of business will be to recall the events of my birth.
I was brought into this world on September 28, 2009 at 12:09pm after being ripped from my mother's womb by a gregarious man in what I now believe was a blue jumper. Prior to that time, I occupied myself with rousing games of tic-tac-toe, preparing my dissertation on the effects of external stimulus on the fetal mind and drawing pictures of horsies on the placenta. I was safe. I was warm. I was happy. Then, without warning, I am taken from my lovely home into a cold and bright and empty area. I see this person with what appeared to be a dead badger on his face, claiming to be my "daddy", and a drugged woman on a slab that "daddy" claimed was my "mommy". Needless to say, I began to scream bloody murder. I was then whisked away and cleaned and prodded, all the while I was attempting to tell the Onesie-clad people that there had been some sort of mistake and would they please stop poking that or trying to put that thing in my rectum. After what seemed like an eternity, my torturers clothed me and sent me into a room with two people claiming to be my "grandma and grandpa". Finally, the sort of people who would be able to take care of my fragile form! But, alas, this brief comfort was also snatched from me as I was returned to the hairy man and the near comatose woman.
The day grows long and the siren call of my liquid diet is nigh. I am on a liquid diet in order to watch my weigh. You can never start too early.
I say adieu, fair readers. I shall continue my story anon.
It is with a heavy sense of humility that I, Dr. Jonathan M West, esq., becomes the newest member of this quaintly titled "Baby Blog". For several weeks now, I have been endeavoring to become the best baby that I can be. Pursuant to this, I have taken up the mantle of "Blog Writer" in addition to my other titles: "PhD", "Professor of Baby Studies, Harvard", and "Poop Factory". Therefore, in between my daily rituals of bowel evacuation, feedings, sleeping when my parents are awake, waking when my parents are sleeping, and transcendental meditation, I will be offering my commentary on the life of a modern infant.
I know that this electronic forum has devolved into a wasteland of mediocrity in the hands of my father, colloquially known as "Daddy", but I'm here to see that this kind of irresponsible blog writing will come to end.
First order of business will be to recall the events of my birth.
I was brought into this world on September 28, 2009 at 12:09pm after being ripped from my mother's womb by a gregarious man in what I now believe was a blue jumper. Prior to that time, I occupied myself with rousing games of tic-tac-toe, preparing my dissertation on the effects of external stimulus on the fetal mind and drawing pictures of horsies on the placenta. I was safe. I was warm. I was happy. Then, without warning, I am taken from my lovely home into a cold and bright and empty area. I see this person with what appeared to be a dead badger on his face, claiming to be my "daddy", and a drugged woman on a slab that "daddy" claimed was my "mommy". Needless to say, I began to scream bloody murder. I was then whisked away and cleaned and prodded, all the while I was attempting to tell the Onesie-clad people that there had been some sort of mistake and would they please stop poking that or trying to put that thing in my rectum. After what seemed like an eternity, my torturers clothed me and sent me into a room with two people claiming to be my "grandma and grandpa". Finally, the sort of people who would be able to take care of my fragile form! But, alas, this brief comfort was also snatched from me as I was returned to the hairy man and the near comatose woman.
The day grows long and the siren call of my liquid diet is nigh. I am on a liquid diet in order to watch my weigh. You can never start too early.
I say adieu, fair readers. I shall continue my story anon.
Been A Long Time...
Yep. It's been a while. A month, really. Sorry about all the waiting and yearning for bloggy goodness, but apparently raising a baby eats up quite a bit of your time. Who knew?
In between the diaper changes and t-shirt changes and cute photo uploads (available on Facebook and shipping for a nominal fee), I do have work and school to take care of. So, it's a busy time for your humble blog writer.
Also, no one told me that babies require this sort of attention all the time, not just the first week or so! It's madness!!
So, to fill in the gaps between the times that I get off my fat, lazy, white blog writing butt and actually write a blog, I would like to welcome our newest contributor to the blog. He comes highly recommended and I hear he has quite a lot to say. In addition, he'll be able to provide amazing insight to the events that occur around Chez West as Carly and I stumble blindly around parenthood.
So, the next blog will be written by none other than... THE BABY!
In between the diaper changes and t-shirt changes and cute photo uploads (available on Facebook and shipping for a nominal fee), I do have work and school to take care of. So, it's a busy time for your humble blog writer.
Also, no one told me that babies require this sort of attention all the time, not just the first week or so! It's madness!!
So, to fill in the gaps between the times that I get off my fat, lazy, white blog writing butt and actually write a blog, I would like to welcome our newest contributor to the blog. He comes highly recommended and I hear he has quite a lot to say. In addition, he'll be able to provide amazing insight to the events that occur around Chez West as Carly and I stumble blindly around parenthood.
So, the next blog will be written by none other than... THE BABY!
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