Hot Hot Hot

It's my new favorite word, and going after things that are is also a fun new pursuit.

When I can, I con Grandma out of coffee (and, weird as it is, the woman who won't give me anything but fish and vegetables actually GIVES it to me. Good stuff. )

I digress. Anyway. I like fire, and hot cups, and I go gangbusters for Starbucks cups. Who knew?

Rebirth of the Blog. Really.

And to commemorate this momentous occasion, take a look at Yogurtfest 2008:

It was rather unsuccessful. No matter how much I like to eat, I can't get figure out how to do it. Pick up a cheerio and put it in my mouth? Nope. Get a spoon near my mouth? Nope. You'll learn about my other talents later, but . . . this isn't one of them.

Bathtime Revisited

You don't say.

Preggopotamus Rex

Today I thought I'd pay homage to the mama. She posts so many pictures of me. This is me in her belly, around seven and a half months. I was snuggled up under her ribs quite comfortably. I guess she wasn't so much; I certainly heard a lot of bitching about my positioning. Little did she know how much worse that was gonna get. Still, she looks kinda pretty here, and sometimes I sure miss it in there.

Valentine's Day Schmaltz

My Great-Grammie
bought me my angel baby outfit although the 'rents seem to think the red devil ensemble may have been more appropriate. Well, only once in awhile. I'm generally a cheerful soul, and I sleep! I sleep for them all the time! Two naps a day, anyone? I throw them off sometimes and refuse the morning refresher. Nonetheless, I digress. My grandma bought me my fabulous
safari hat and camo
glasses. She got me new socks, too
- -even camo socks. Who knew she had it in her?

I'm still not sure what possessed the mama to outfit me in said items all together. Me? I think it looks pretty stupid together though I must say -- I love these glasses. They all thought this photo shoot was hilarious. Then again, they don't have much in the way of fun these days as they're busy busy working to secure my future. I guess making me bear the brunt of the fun paucity is their answer.

Next time you concoct a look like this, lady, you're going to get more than a grimace.

Oh, and a late happy Valentine's day to all, and to all a very smarmy and schmaltzy celebration next year. I'll get you on the downside.

Milestones, Shmilestones . . .

Some people archive their baby's firsts -- rolling over, sitting up, crawling. Yada yada. Everyone does that stuff. Cataloging it is just so . . . expected. So mundane. Check out a few of my "firsts" here in all my profundity and one of me just being ridiculously adorable (er, myself).

Crib-glaring 101: When your lame parents wake you up with a flash, cultivate a withering sneer. I'm working on perfecting it.
Bottle-snatching 240: Hey there, Sir Stingy. I'm not finished with that. And if you don't give it back ASAP, you're going to find yourself drenched with it in its partially digested state. Tally ho!

Starfish eating 1o1: I've finally got a grip on this sucker, and I'm going to rip his fishy point right off.

Wow. It's been so long since I posted. It's probably because I'm very busy. I know, I know -- that's what everyone says. But you all probably aren't learning how to sit up or cutting teeth, or preparing to crawl. So cut me some slack; here I am taking a break, stopping to smell the roses, as they say. Ha.