Saturday, January 31, 2009

I Like Hike

Mommy took me on a hike in Marin with her friends Caroline, Andrew and their dog Romeo. Romey and I are buds. He's licked me. I've grabbed his ear. So there's mutual love there.

Anyways, I gotta say that I love hiking. I love the blue skies. I love the warm sun. I love going up and down hills. I love feeling wind in my face. I love smelling grass. I love smelling the grass that other people are smoking when they walk past us. I love stopping for breaks. I love spending that time with Mommy and whoever she invites.

I love the whole thing.

And although my feet never hit the ground, and although I took every mile in the Bob and in the Bjorn, I was wiped out. But it's not because I was bored. It's because when you love something with all your might, you'll eventually have nothing left.

But that's okay. I slept. That's what the car ride is for.

Friday, January 30, 2009


Mommy and Daddy took me to a game night with some of my friends. Tanner was there. So was Reese. So was Olive and Jack. Beckett stayed home.

We didn't get a chance to play much. It was late, and we were all wiped out.

However, all the parents weren't. They got together, ate dinner, had some drinks and then played a game. And they drank. And drank. And the more they drank, the louder they got. And the louder they got, the more of us that woke up.

One by one.

But me? Nah. I slept through it. I found them to be boring.

You heard me. Bore. Ring.

Look, if you're gonna get all drunk and have some fun, if all the kids are asleep, then let loose. Dance on tables. Break some windows. Have someone call the authorities. Light your farts on fire. Then, maybe, I'll open my eyes and see what's up.

Until then, snore.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Fun With Disgusting

I've been the victim of random acts of disgusting.

First off, I've been finding long strands of Mommy's hair all over me. Sometimes, it's on my face. Sometimes, it's on the nipple of my pacifier. This morning, however, when Mommy was changing my diaper, she found her hair coming out of my cooley. You read that right. Out. Of. My. Cooley. She didn't know if it just fell out of her head and landed there, or if it was something I accidentally swallowed and digested. Seriously. She didn't know. I'm two more strands away from asking Mommy to grab the buzzer and give herself the cueball look.

Secondly, when laying in bed with Mommy and Daddy, I peed on my own face. And you know what? It happens. It happens to all of us. Everyone's peed on their own face. Don't deny it. It probably happened to you last week. Go ahead. Admit it. I'm man enough.

And thirdly, also in the peeing front, I learned that when you're in the Baby Bjorn, and you're strapped up to a guy, and he goes to the men's room to relieve himself, kick your own legs up. That's how you stay dry. For me, lesson learned loud and clear.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

I Love Fish

Mommy took me to the Academy of Sciences today with her Mom's group, and for the first time, Mommy had me facing away from her when I was in the Baby Bjorn. So instead of getting an eyeful of Mommy's cleavage, I was able to actually see the world.

Imagine that.

Anyways, the best part was in the aquarium. I loved the fishes. Loved them all. Mommy told me that Daddy had some nice fishtanks when he was growing up, and that when we get our own house, maybe he'll get another tank. I would love that. Seriously.

And if he does, I hope he gets some jellyfish. They were my fave. I like how they looked like an umbrella with strings underneath them. I like how they shimmy instead of swim. I like how they glow. Whenever they moved, I kicked my legs and waved my arms. Mommy took that as meaning that I loved them. And although I did, I was actually trying to swim like them.

So, at almost four months old, I'm taking this forum to announce publicly that, when I grow up, I want to be a jellyfish.

I hope they teach that in preschool.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Naked Goodness

Have I mentioned how much I love to take a bath?

It's warm. Really warm.

I get to pee on myself (and sometimes Mommy and Daddy) without staining anything.

I smell really nice right afterwards.

I get to spend happy time with my rubber duckie.

And when they take me out, Mommy and Daddy wrap me in this really warm blanket and smother me with love, kisses and goodness. That might be my favorite part.

Then they'll take me back to my changing table and give me a full body massage, all the way to each individual finger and toe.

I don't even care about them putting my diaper on and getting me into my jammies. I'm already in heaven. That's just the wrapping.

My only request? More bubbles in the bath. But that's on me. I just have to eat more right beforehand.

Monday, January 26, 2009

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8....9?

Mommy and Daddy have done a lot for me recently, and with me being in the giving mood, I decided to give them a nice little gift.

Tonight, I slept for nine hours.

Not five hours, wake up, then four hours. Or six hours, then cry, then eat, then sleep another three.

I slept for nine straight hours.

Mommy and Daddy tried to figure out exactly what they did right that caused me to be their "perfect angel". But, truth be told, it had nothing to do with them. It was all because I had an amazing dream, and this time, I saw the whole thing through.

You see, I was a giant among all my teddy bear animals, and in my kingdom, they looked at me to protect them. And I did. I was their friend. I threw a party for all of them where we all sat down and just watched the mobile go round and round. Then I picked up a football and threw a perfect touchdown pass to a furry elephant at the end of the crib. Then my animal friends made a huge pacifier as a gift for me for being so awesome, and I picked it up and put into my mouth.

Seriously, that was my dream. And you must be thinking, what kind of a dream was that? There's no story there. There's no tension, no drama.

Yep. No drama, no disruptions.

Sometimes, it's just that easy.

I bet anything that Mommy and Daddy do everything the same way tonight as they did last night. 8 ounces of formula. Two quick naps. Hit the bed at 9.

Why does it have to be about them?

Respect the dream.

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Bad Plumbing

I've been constipated for a couple of days. Actually, it's been on and off. But mostly on. And by on, I mean my digestive system's been off. So it's been on because I've been off.

There's not much Mommy and Daddy could do to help me. They're sympathetic when I'm trying to cry and push myself through it, but sympathy doesn't make poop drop out.

It's gotten so bad that every time I fart, Mommy and Daddy check my diaper for a gift, and are disappointed when there's nothing there. Could you believe that? They hate it when they don't have to change me.

That's how far this has come.

And yet, every day, I watch them walk in and out of their own bathroom, sit on the toilet, read a magazine, pinch one out, wipe themselves clean, wash their hands and then return to me.


Look at me, Wyatt! I can poop! And I can read about Jennifer Aniston while doing it! And you can't! Nah, nah nah, nah naaaah, nah!

That's what made today so awesome. This morning, their toilet overflooded. So Daddy took out a plunger and tried to get the clog out. Then he used something called a snake and tried getting it out that way too. Then he called a plumber, who told them that the clog was because something in the tank busted and that we needed a new toilet altogether, but we couldn't get one in until tomorrow morning.

Which meant, for tonight, Mommy and Daddy would be just as constipated as I was.

So, at 9PM, when I pooped a large thick and sticky beige poop that would put most other poops to shame, and they had to not only see it but also clean it up, they weren't so happy about it after all. Because only they know how tight their butts were clenching at that moment.

When they saw me smile, they thought it was because I felt better.

But I was too busy showing off to be relieved.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Appetite For Destruction

Mommy and Daddy took me to my friend Beckett's first birthday party. All the kids were invited to dress up like a rock star. So after much debate and deliberation, they put me in a t-shirt, tied a flannel around my waist and wrapped a bandanna around my head and called me Axl.

As in, Axl Rose.

Who is this Axl Rose?

This is what I found out: He headed a band called Guns N' Roses, they were huge, then he went crazy and it took him just 15 years to release his follow-up album. He's got a history of violence, drug abuse, homophobia, racism and overall difficulty. And he shows up like four hours late for all his concerts.

This is the guy Mommy and Daddy decided to dress me up as.

This is who they thought I should be for this party.


It's a good thing they weren't asked to dress me like an athlete. I mean, with their train of thought, they might have just dressed me in a Plaxico Burress jersey.

Seriously. They would have.

Friday, January 23, 2009

A Little Help

Uncle Will came over to watch some sports with Daddy. He's gonna be a daddy soon, and Daddy's been walking him through all the little things it takes to be a good one. Or, at least, one that would not accidentally break a little boy.

So he came over just in time to feed me some formula. Daddy told him how to bend his arm so my head can nestle comfortably. He showed him how to hold the bottle. He explained what it sounds like when I'm taking in air. Then he had Uncle Will gently rock me to sleep.

I let this whole process take longer than it normally would, mostly because I felt like he needed the work. I didn't raise the difficulty level. I just let him dangle on the line a little more.

And before you get on me for being cruel, I did him a solid and threw him a couple of smiles his know, for the effort.

But when I did that and I saw his face light up in return, I realized that he's gonna be a good dad, no matter how he holds his boy. He's just one caring dude. Heck, he was practicing on me before he has one of his own. How cool is that?

Which means that's he's gonna be the dad of one lucky kid.

I always hear Mommy and Daddy say that, now that they're parents, they finally get their own parents. I don't know what that means, mostly because the most important people to me are me and the giraffe toy I put in my mouth when I'm teething. But seeing Uncle Will like that makes me think that, once you stop being the center of your world that the world opens up.

But I'm a long way from that ever happening.

In fact, I'm just thinking about the next thing I want Uncle Will to learn. I'd have given him more tonight if I weren't so constipated.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

The New Plan

Like I mentioned before, with Mommy heading back to work on Tuesday and Thursdays, life is a little different. On Tuesday, I spent my morning at Gram and Grampa's, so I didn't experience anything different other than the house was a little chillier than it is back home.

This morning, it was all business.

Daddy went into the shower first while Mommy watched me. Then Daddy watched me as Mommy got herself ready for work. Then Mommy left, leaving me with Daddy. We had a nice time chatting with each other and having a good ol' fashioned "Smile-Off" (I won, of course), until Gram came over, at which point Daddy finished getting ready and took off.

Mommy then came home around two feedings and two naps later.

I guess this is the way things are gonna be from here on out. Can't say I mind it. I get some solid alone time with Gram, who does "Tummy Time" with me, sings "Inky Dinky Spider" and talks to me. We watch TV together. I'm the complete center of her attention.

Then, when Mommy gets home, she's missed me so much that I'm also the complete center of her attention. And then when Daddy gets home later, he's missed me so much that, yes, I'm also the complete center of his attention too.

You can see how a lesser kid can get spoiled.

Me? I'm just gonna appreciate this.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

An Addition to the Mixture

My life is pretty simple: During the week, Mommy watches me. At night, when Daddy comes home, he's got me. At certain blocks of time during the week, Gram, Grampa or Auntie Pua will spend some time with me. And when I'm back in New York, Grandma and Grandpa got my back.

Simple, right?

Well, look who we got here. A new face to add in. From what I've gathered, Mommy and Daddy are fixing it to have Wednesday nights all to themselves to do whatever they want. Supposedly, Mommy wants to go to yoga and Daddy, well, who the heck knows what he does in his spare time. So they hired a permanent babysitter for Wednesday nights.

She's a friend of Mommy's family. She's young, but not my age. Mommy walked her through all things Wyatt, and she seems bright enough to follow. Then again, I'm fairly low maintenance. If you know how to smile at me or stick your tongue out or sing some songs, then you've got a captive audience of one very important infant.

And in case you were wondering, the answer is yes. I've already put my full flirt on. How could I not? I'm seventeen pounds of sex appeal.

So welcome to the group, Nathalie. I look forward to you cleaning up my poop.

(Yep, I'm into that sort of thing).

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

A Historic Day

I spent last night at Gram and Grampa's place. You know, a nice little sleepover. Mommy was heading back to work on Tuesday morning, Daddy was returning to his daily grind, and since I spent an entire week 2500 miles away from Gram and Grampa, they wanted to watch me for an entire night and following day. Color me lucky.

But what was really amazing was that I sat down with Gram and Grampa and watched Barack Obama be inaugurated as our president. Daddy told me this before, and Grampa told me it again: If I put my mind to it, I can be anything. I've only been on this planet for three months, and that's the world I live in. Pretty cool, huh?

When Mommy picked me up and Daddy came home, they told me how I should always keep that in mind, that every door has been kicked down for me, and that my life is what I make it to be.

Okay, I got it.

But later on is when I really felt it. Mommy came back from yoga early, like an entire hour early. She was crying because she hated being away from me for so long. But when she barreled through the door, I was snugly in Daddy's arms. That's when I realized that, well, yes the world is open to me, but I'm heading into it with a lot of love and care and precaution around me.

It's not just up to me. I'm not alone. Nowhere near it, actually. It's all up to us.

Let's see what we do with it.

Monday, January 19, 2009

Moving On Maybe

We returned home to San Francisco, replacing 7 degree days with a 70 degree beauty. Mommy and Daddy took me to Dolores Park, where we sat and ate and enjoyed the sun. Daddy even took me on my first swing set. It was nice.

Then Gram came over and played with me and then took me to Petra's house. That's when I heard the great news that I was spending the night at Gram and Grampa's place tonight. How cool is that? How lucky can a kid be? I'm on a great streak.

But that's only half the story.

When we got home after a week, we had some packages waiting for us. And I don't think I was supposed to see this, but in one of those boxes was a new Yellow Paci, just like my old beloved that's in Golden Gate Park somewhere.

It was sparkling and it looked delicious.

I overheard Mommy saying something like she ordered ten of them, but they only sent two and only one was yellow, and that it cost more to ship it than it did to buy it. But it was here. Finally.

However, here's the thing that I don't have the heart to let them know: I think I've moved on. These two turquoise pacifiers have been doing the job. They've been very workmanlike. I think I've adapted to them. After all, it's been them or nothing, and I couldn't do without.

And now, I'm sorta attached to them, I guess, although I'm willing to give my prodigal pacifier another try.

So welcome back, Yellow Paci. I look forward to putting you in my mouth soon. But don't assume anything.

After all, I might be spoken for.

Sunday, January 18, 2009


After a tearful goodbye at the airport, Mommy, Daddy and I boarded another plane to head back home to San Francisco. Again, we flew on Jet Blue, so Daddy was able to watch playoff football while Mommy watched a concert.

I had some disagreements when we took off. Leaving such a loving family is a hard thing to do. But once I realized that I had another loving side of the family waiting for me on the other end, I became happy again. And, as we racked up the miles in the air, my parents passed me back and forth, talking to me and playing with me.

It was fun. This time, I decided to let Ohio off the hook and instead unloaded on Michigan.

But since we were leaving Daddy's family, I realized he was a little more solemn than usual. So I concentrated my efforts on him and tried to cheer him up.

So I said, "Ggkgkgkshhhhh!".

He smiled, looked at me, and replied, "Ggkgkgkshhhhh!"

I smiled back and replied "Ggkgkgkshhhhh!"

And again, he replied "Ggkgkgkshhhhh!"

And on and on we went. He loved it. So did Mommy. So did I. It helped us pass the time. And suddenly, instead of looking back, he was looking forward at another little tradition we have between us.

He was smiling because we were having a conversation. Mommy was smiling because she loved seeing her two boys bond even tighter. And I was smiling because I knew what "Ggkgkgkshhhhh!" really meant.

I'll tell him when I've got my own place.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

I Learned a New Word

This morning sucked.

Mommy and Daddy went out with some of his childhood friends. I was left at home to spent another amazing evening with Grandma and Grandpa. However, because Grandma's boobs don't produce breastmilk (unfortunately, I didn't ask about Grandpa's boobs), I had some formula. This isn't new. Mommy supplements her breastfeeding with it, and I'm a fan.

But the problem with formula is that there's something with breastmilk that makes you regular, although I've never had a problem with that.

Until this morning.

You see, I pushed and pushed and pushed all day and all night and nothing came out. At 4:37 in the morning, I'd had enough, and if I were gonna stay up frustrated, I was gonna take Mommy and Daddy down with me.

At 6:29 AM, I finally let them and their ears off the hook.

This is what I learned when I woke up again: There's this thing called constipation, and that is the inability to poop. And if you've been reading this blog, you'll know that constipation isn't something I look forward to.

But it happens to the best of us.

And when it does, it gets the best of us.

I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy.

At 10:42 AM, I finally had an explosion, one that went up my back, towards my neck and reaching my socks.

It was both disgusting and glorious, like it was all backed up and just waiting to pop out. I felt like I lost seven pounds in one push. I felt like the cork being popped out of Mommy's daily 5 PM bottle of wine. I felt like floating away on a cloud. I felt like I was able to sit again. I felt like showing off all zero of my teeth for an entire day.

And when I saw Grandpa look away with disgust at what I'd done, I knew I'd done good.

Friday, January 16, 2009

Jersey Boy

Daddy told me before we left for New York that this vacation is not really a vacation. Every day is full. Each day, I've met new friends and cousins who've held me and hugged me and kissed me and I've felt compelled to put up a show for them. It's hard work and tiresome, but I can't say that I'm complaining.

But today was kinda special.

Instead of getting caught in the family assembly line, Mommy and Daddy bundled me up to protect me from the cold, packed me up into the car and drove me to an indoor mall in New Jersey.

It wasn't that far away, only about ten miles. And the mall was big, but it was no big deal. Mommy and Daddy took their time looking in stores, but truth be told, we didn't buy much.

But what we did get was some time together, just the three of us.

That was our little vacation from our vacation.

And when we returned, I met more cousins and friends and did so with a huge smile on my face. And, just as we'd been having, we continued to have a great time.

But, between the three of us and only the three of us, we'll always have Jersey.

Thursday, January 15, 2009


Each morning here in New York, I wake Mommy and Daddy up in their room. They feed me, change my diaper, talk to me for a brief moment and then take me downstairs, where my Grandma is waiting for me.

And when she sees me, her face lights up and she says, "Here comes my sunshine!"

When I get handed over to her, she lifts me up and is beaming with joy. She sings to me, makes baby talk to me, plays with me and hugs me. I can't help but smile. Grandparents really give you a special kind of love.

Then, at some point during the day, Grandma changes me, burps me, feeds me and consoles me. Whatever I need, she gives me, and always with that huge smile on my face.

That's why I think she's got it only half right.

Because, like I said before, when she sees me, and her face lights up and she says, "Here comes my sunshine!", I hope she knows that I'm thinking the same exact thing about her.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

A New Friend

The weather in New York is crazy. Right now, it's freezing. I've overheard people saying that it's been the coldest here this week in over fifteen years. That's like sixty of me!

And, during the summer, I've heard it gets really hot. So it's a place of extremes.

Anyways, to combat the fact that you're mostly sitting inside with your windows closed, each of Grandma and Grandpa's rooms has this thing called a ceiling fan that helps circulate and cool the air. It's a bunch of blades connected to a motor that makes it spin. So it's kinda like a mobile.

I like how, when I'm on my back and my eyes are searching for something to focus on, I can find them rotating like a wheel. Sometimes, my eyes follow one blade around and around. Sometimes, they just stare into one specific space and I watch all the blades pass me by. And sometimes, I just watch the shadows on the ceiling.

No matter what I do, I'm fascinated. It's the most amazing thing ever.

This is how much: I could have poop in my pants. I could have teeth breaking through my gums. I could have the worst gas trapped in my lungs and loins. It don't matter. Give me a ceiling fan, and you've got a captive audience.

I'm just a simple man with simple pleasures.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Now It All Makes Sense

Tonight, I met what seemed like an endless line of Daddy's friends, cousins, uncles and aunts. These are the same people who he grew up with, who helped raised him and who made him who he is.

And suddenly, everything makes sense.

Every single one of them is funny, smart, wise-asses, good-natured, opinionated, warm, loud and friendly. They make everyone around them feel comfortable and welcomed, but still take their shots at them whenever they can - in a really fun and non-hurtful way. And there's never a moment where anyone stopped laughing. I just sat there and watched the festivities and enjoyed every minute of it. I really did.

The reason I'm bringing this up is that by spending time with them, I'm really getting to know my Dad. And when I get to know my Daddy even further, I'm really just getting to know myself.

So if you see me smiling a little more, now you know why.

Monday, January 12, 2009

The Closer

Being in Staten Island visiting my grandparents is supposed to be a vacation, but with all the relatives I've been meeting (and being fawned over), well, it's hard work. And when you consider that I'm just three months old, it's doubly tough.

Good thing I have an ace in the hole.

When I get really tired, I just carry on. I'm talking screaming at the top of my lungs. I'm talking closing my eyes and yelling with everything I've got. And when Mommy, Daddy and Grandma all fail to appease me, they call on Grandpa. They call him "The Closer". That's because when he lifts me up and rests me on his shoulder, he closes the deal.

To be honest, I don't know exactly why that puts me to sleep. I have no idea exactly why when Daddy does the same exact thing, my eyes stay open. And I have no idea exactly why I instinctively awaken whenever Grandpa tries to put me back down.

What I do know is that I love spending time with my Grandpa.

Maybe that's all there is to it.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Much Loved

Today, I spent an entire day with Uncle Mike and Aunt Sue (which was great) but, more importantly, with my first cousins Nicky and Ava Rose. Of course, I've met them before, but that was when they crawled into my computer box and talked to me from in there.

This time, they were here, in the flesh.

Ava Rose only wanted to hold me. When I was cold, she warmed me up by covering me with paper. When I wanted to go to sleep, she gently rubbed the top of my head. When I woke up, she was the first one to kiss my cheek. And when I just wanted to be entertained, she sweetly sang the alphabet song to me.

She's just two years older than me. I'm lucky.

And Nicky's my only first cousin who's a boy. He's six years older than me, so he's got a lot of knowledge he can't wait to share with me. Today, he told me all about cars - all the different parts, how it works and the different brands. I take it that he's a real big car nut. And he sang songs to me, even making up songs about me and he made me laugh. I liked it when he held me. And he was Daddy's First Assistant when he had to change my diaper.

There wasn't a moment I wasn't left alone. And there wasn't a moment that I minded it.

I can't wait for all the future moments.

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Birthplace of Aviation. Home of My Poop.

Mommy and Daddy woke me up at the ungodly hour of 4:30 AM to drive to the airport so we could go to this place called New York City where Grandma and Grandpa and Nicky and Ava and Uncle Mike and Aunt Sue and so many other people live. Just like we did for San Diego, we went through the medal detector (I passed) and we made our way to the gate.

This time, we flew Jet Blue. And the seats were leather and each one had their own personal TV. When I sat on Mommy's lap, I watched Home and Garden shows, and when I sat on Daddy's lap, I watched college basketball.

Can't complain. The five hours we spent on the plane flew by, especially when you consider all the fun and games we played. You can never get too old of sticking your tongue out at your parents.

Anyways, somewhere between Cincinnati and Cleveland, Daddy smelled something suspicious on me down below. So, since Mommy was the closest to the aisle, he handed me to her and she took me to the changing table in the bathroom.

It was an explosion worthy of the altitude.

If they gave out wings for diaper damage, I'd get a box full.

If they announced what I did over the intercom, they'd put me in the seats with 38" of legroom just because they would be in awe of my abilities.

Nonetheless, I just ruined all the clothes I was wearing (yeah, my poop landed on each item, including socks) and returned to Daddy's arms.

Sorry about that, Ohio. It was nothing personal.

Friday, January 09, 2009

Real Talk

Mommy and I talk. But we can't understand each other.

You see, although I'm able to type this blog, I'm not able to form words with my mouth and voicebox. Until recently, all I could do with my mouth was smile, suck on boobs and stick my tongue out, and the best noise I could do is cry. But it's crying in the form of communication. It's a working arrangement.

But recently, I've been able to make noises that aren't cries. Some call them coos. Some call them caws. I don't care what you call it. It might not make sense to you, but just know that I'm trying.

But what Mommy doesn't realize is that, although what's coming out of myself isn't making any sense, I can understand her. So when she baby talks back to me, it doesn't work. And that leads me to make harsh decisions.

For example, here's a conversation from today:

ME: "Baa Baa Boo Baa Waa." (translation: "I like how you smell today, Mommy. What perfume are you wearing?")

MOMMY: "Boojie Boojie Boola Woo Wee Woo."

ME: "Ooowaa Hulla Hulla." (translation: "I didn't catch that. What did you say?"

MOMMY: "Nova Noochie Noochie New!"

ME: "Oooowie! Ooowie! Waa!" (translation: "Please speak English back to me. I have no idea what you're saying."

MOMMY: "Pookie Poo!"

ME: "Bee! Beeya!" (translation: "You're making fun of me. Is that what this is about?"

MOMMY: "Pookie Boo! Noochie Boola!"

ME: "Hulla Woo Wee Woo!" (translation: "I'm ending this conversation if you can't give me a serious answer.")

MOMMY: "Tootie Woola Woo!"

And that led me to stare at the brightest lights around, because at least I'll get some sort of simulation from that.

So, as you can see, as much as I love talking to Mommy, she leaves me no other option than to burn my retinas.

Thursday, January 08, 2009

All Nighter

I'm getting used to this crib thing and also with this whole new sleeping arrangement. It's not bad. Different, yes, but not worse. And I kinda like having my own bedroom.

Last night, I closed my eyes and fell asleep. And I missed my halftime rocking. I just forgot about it. I meant to wake up, but just slipped my mind.

Okay, I'll own up. I chose not to wake up. I was having the most amazing dream. There I was, using my two legs to walk around just like Mommy and Daddy do, and suddenly, wherever I looked, there were big boobies. And milk was flowing from them like a waterfall. So wherever I wanted to go, I could be fed.

And suddenly, Sophie the Giraffe came by. She winked at me. I jumped on. And with each step we took, we made that squeaky noise. And it was loud. Really loud. It echoed through the mountains of boob around me.

But from high above the world, sitting on Sophie's back, I was able to find what I've always been looking for. Yes, you guessed it: The Yellow Pacifier. It was gleaming and brightening the entire landscape, as if it were brand new.

Sophie gently lowered her neck and I slid down. I walked over to the Yellow Pacifier and nodded to it, not saying anything because old friends have a silent language all their own. And with that, I put the entire thing in my mouth.

When I finally woke up, seven and a half hours later, Mommy and Daddy were both beaming with pride. And they put the blue pacifier, the one I call "The Scab", into my mouth.

And when I closed my eyes again, the Yellow Pacifier was gone. As if it were never there. My heart sank.

But then Mommy put her boob in my mouth, so it's okay. I can deal.

Wednesday, January 07, 2009

> Or < Me

Mommy took me to her Mommy's group today, and for the first time, I realized that I had an actual job to do there (other than being gawked at). My purpose there, you see, was to be the control test.

Let me explain. Mommy just took me that morning to get weighed at Natural Resources, and I notched in at 15 pounds, 5 ounces. So when she took me to the Mommy's group and she told everyone of my weight, they all picked me up to see if their own children weighed more or less than I do.

Hand over. Lift. Hand over. Lift. Hand over. Lift. Hand over. Lift. Hand over. Lift. And these are women with long nails on their hands.

I was a human scale. Sound like fun to you?

It's the first time I'd ever been used by a woman. In this case, a whole bunch of them. And from what I heard, it won't be the last.

You're all on notice, females. I'm on to your game.

Tuesday, January 06, 2009

My Mobile

Mommy put a new mobile up. The last one we had broke under suspicious circumstances that is still under investigation.

This one, however, rocks.

First off, it plays Beethoven, Mozart and something else. I think Metallica. And it's got four different multicolored animals, and some beads that rise and fall when it makes a full rotation. I think it's the most mesmerizing thing on the planet. I love it with everything I have.

Today, Daddy tried talking to me while I was being entertained by the mobile, and when he didn't get my hint to leave me alone through complete ignorance, I shot him a look that said, "Dude, seriously, you're gonna take my attention away from the most fascinating thing in the world so I can amuse you? Really? You think that's smart, huh? Yeah? Well, no."

So he went off on his business. And I returned to my mobile and kicked my legs and swung my arms and laughed and giggled with joy.

Great joy.

Monday, January 05, 2009


So Mommy and Daddy put me to sleep. Here's the sequence of events: Mommy feeds me from her teat. Daddy the rocks me in his arms. I cry, so Daddy gives me some formula. Then they wrap me in a sleeper. And then I wake up five hours later.

Tonight, though, when I woke up, I wasn't in my bassinette, and I wasn't in Mommy and Daddy's room.

I was in a crib. And I was in the room where they change my diaper.

What? Huh?

You know, a nice little advanced notice would've be nice.

Here's the thing, though: I kinda like my crib. It's bigger. It's softer. I've got a cool mobile to look at. It's warmer. And I don't have to listen to Daddy's snoring or Mommy talking in her sleep.

And I can fart with freedom.

Loudly. Wetly. And at any time of the night.

And nobody will hear me except for the stuffed doll in the corner, and he knows not to snitch.

Sunday, January 04, 2009


Mommy always calls me "MonkeyMoo". It's a weird name. From what I gather, my handle is Wyatt (or maybe "Why It?") and my last name isn't MonkeyMoo. So...what the heck?

Let's break it down:

Monkey: I do not look like a Monkey. I don't crawl or walk yet, so that doesn't walk. Yes, I do have some hair on my ears, but I'm kinda bald on my head so there's no connection there. I don't eat bananas, but I reckon that when I get big enough, I'll like them. I do not play the cymbals. Hey, I do sound like a monkey sometimes. Maybe that?

Moo: I am not a cow. I do not have spots. I may be a big kid, but I'm not cow sized. I don't have horns, and I also don't have enough hair to put them in a horn shape. I've never worn leather or been draped in leather product.


I gave myself a headache thinking about it. So I began to cry.

That's when Mommy came by to feed me. I draped myself all over her, hanging on her like I'm on monkeybars, and then drank some milk from her teat.



Saturday, January 03, 2009

Who Me?

With Daddy off to Atlanta for the night, Mommy took me to her friend's house in Oakland, where I hung out with Jackie, a cute 6-month-old. We had a good time, although it was another estrogen party. I mean, is it too much to ask for a little football?

Anyways, Mommy put me in this little swing seat and placed me in front of a mirror, where I saw this dashingly handsome 3-month-old stud with bulging muscles and a suave demeanor looking back at me. We both smiled at each other. Then we both smiled at each other again at the same time, except this time it was bigger. Then I stuck my tongue out at him, much how like I do to Daddy. But where it takes Daddy three seconds to stick his tongue back out at me, this guy did it at the same time.

Then I did it again, and this hunk did it back at me at the same time.

I gotta say, I really like this guy. He's cool. He's like my twin.

I'd like to hang out with him some more.

Thursday, January 01, 2009

Happy New Year

Through watching TV and being on Skype and listening to other people's conversations, I realized that there are different ways to celebrate New Years.

Some went to Times Square and froze their butts off.

Some went to concerts to listen to really bad music.

Some spent time with their families.

Some just stayed home alone.

All seemed like good ideas. But for me, I really wanted something special. So I decided to celebrate the New Years by projectile vomiting onto Mommy's cheek.

To each their own.