Monday, January 21, 2008
Quite a Fair Time at the Marshfield Fair
So what if it was 95 degrees in the shade and daddy got stung by a bee, I was so cute, even the cows thought so!
Sunday, November 18, 2007
I Drive, Therefore, I Am
A trip in the late summer with play group saw me assert my burgeoning type-A-ness by grabbing the wheel and not letting go. OK, I eventually let go, but needed to be bribed with "o's" and juice.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
When In Bethesda...
Yup, that's me in the diaper, frolicking in a public pool to cool off during a late summer trip to visit Grandmom Lin and Grampa Matt. Since I'm not in charge of what I wear just yet, I'll have to trust that this was totally acceptable attire considering no one asked us to leave...
Touch A Truck
The town of Hingham hosted "touch a truck," which is basically a parking lot with all kinds of trucks for little kids to climb on and pretend to drive. There was also a train for us kids, doing a lap around the lot. Daddy and I road with cousin Luke. The only downside to the whole day was having to share the wheel(s) with other kids. On the upside, I got to see Layla, my new cousin.
I'M BACK
Yes, just when you thought the life and times of Nate were slowing down and no longer worthy of blogging, I'm back! Let's see, since we last updated you, I started day care, mastered walking, started talking more, even offering up full sentences -- I see you -- trick or treated, climbed, fell and picked myself up again, made new friends, begun to share the status of my diaper with select adults and tackled the big-kid apparatus on the playground (with some success).
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Turning the Big 1-8
Yup, that's right, I'm turning 18 months this week. What a ride it has been (literally, with 3 strollers, a wagon, plus the stuff at the playground, I get around). In honor of my year-and-a-half mark, and the fact that Daddy is euphemistically between jobs, he has plenty of time on his hands, we're posting "the best of the best" 18 shots from the last 18 months. Here are the first five, with some color commentary and baby-to-English translation:
This is me at about 3 minutes old. Man, was it cold. And no more on-demand food. I remember asking myself, "What were you thinking, just because things were getting a little cramped, was this really worth it?"
A certain quiet dignity set in following my first sponge bath. I was still in the hospital and feeling OK about the people taking care of me. Nobody told me I would be going home with the only people caring for me with no formal education or training in infant care. I found the situation fraught with both irony and potential disaster.
That's a proud grandmom right there, ladies and gentlemen. No two ways about it, I was the apple of her eye. Being the first grandchild carries with it a certain cache, which, at least to-date, I continue to demonstrate with aplomb (and I've even eaten a plumb, to boot!). Daddy has gone plumb loco. In fact, his humor is so linear, you can draw a plumb line from one pun to the next.
Inside the Actor's Studio? No. Inside the baby cave, actually. Yes, my first few months were spent snuggling with Mommy (and Daddy sometimes) in the baby cave, which is the name Mommy gave our house as she and Daddy spent the first few months figuring out what to do with me...they seemed up to the challenge and we eventually emerged from the cave, thriving, smiling and ready to move to a bigger cave as I began accumulating stuff of all shapes and sizes.
It's hard to be me and some of the early days were particularly challenging. This shot of me, courtesy of "Uncle Lou," was taken shortly after a bath in the kitchen sink. Given my penchant for all things water today (see the post below about a plumber), it's hard to imagine that these experiences were so disconcerting.
This is me at about 3 minutes old. Man, was it cold. And no more on-demand food. I remember asking myself, "What were you thinking, just because things were getting a little cramped, was this really worth it?"
A certain quiet dignity set in following my first sponge bath. I was still in the hospital and feeling OK about the people taking care of me. Nobody told me I would be going home with the only people caring for me with no formal education or training in infant care. I found the situation fraught with both irony and potential disaster.
That's a proud grandmom right there, ladies and gentlemen. No two ways about it, I was the apple of her eye. Being the first grandchild carries with it a certain cache, which, at least to-date, I continue to demonstrate with aplomb (and I've even eaten a plumb, to boot!). Daddy has gone plumb loco. In fact, his humor is so linear, you can draw a plumb line from one pun to the next.
Inside the Actor's Studio? No. Inside the baby cave, actually. Yes, my first few months were spent snuggling with Mommy (and Daddy sometimes) in the baby cave, which is the name Mommy gave our house as she and Daddy spent the first few months figuring out what to do with me...they seemed up to the challenge and we eventually emerged from the cave, thriving, smiling and ready to move to a bigger cave as I began accumulating stuff of all shapes and sizes.
It's hard to be me and some of the early days were particularly challenging. This shot of me, courtesy of "Uncle Lou," was taken shortly after a bath in the kitchen sink. Given my penchant for all things water today (see the post below about a plumber), it's hard to imagine that these experiences were so disconcerting.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Did Someone Call For A Plumber?
Playing in the sink is a genetic trait passed down from both Mommy and Daddy. I may grow webbed fingers and gills. Oh, and by the way, I can push the chair over to the sink, climb up and wreak havoc on the dirty, or as I say "yucky," dishes.
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