The Art Of Eating

After the canteloupe, many new food wonders and delights came into my life. Mommy's let me lick slices of pineapple, clementine and red apple and, of course, more cantaloupe, which continues to hold the title of favorite food to suck on. But the fun didn't stop there. I got to actually eat some solid food too. So far, I've eaten avocado, banana, avocado & kiwi combined (by far the most delectable meal thus far) and papaya.

Below are videos of my first two meals. And lest you be quick to judge, cut me some slack. I'm a novice at this eating endeavor. I'm very eager to do it, but I'm still trying to hone my skills and work out the logistics of it all. I try to chew and swallow but half of what goes into my mouth just ends up on my bib (shameful, I know).  Although I am reluctant to give M & D too much credit for anything (I am suspicious of their aptitude on all fronts), I do have to applaud them for their mastery of the art of eating. They make it appear deceivingly easy. But I would like to make it known that eating is much more difficult than it looks.

A Dance Video I Am Not Proud Of

I made a dance video. Or, should I say, I made a dance video under duress. There was no free will involved on my part in making said video. I was - once again - helplessly subject to mommy's frivolous whims. And, if that wasn't bad enough, daddy did not only fail to rescue me from such whims, he was mommy's cohort in the endeavor.

And let it be known that the song choice was none of my doing. It was mommy's. Jason Mraz? Really, mommy? Of all the songs out there, this is what you choose? I will never trust you with music selection again.

Let the record show that I was NOT happy about this dance video. But, I humored my old folks. They owe me big time for this one. I'm talking brand-new-trlcyle-for-my-second-birthday big time.

Love,
WFT

Post-Cantaloupe Era of Enlightenment

I'm nearing five months of age. Yesterday, I sat up all by myself for two very brief intervals of time. The sitting up endeavors made one thing very clear - the extremely fat (perhaps borderline obese) baby thing I'm currently embracing, while extremely adorable at the moment, will get me nowhere in life going forward. I do enjoy eliciting squeals of delight from mommy when she sees my fat naked self before a bath and I like when daddy endearingly calls me "fat boy." But I must resolve to work on my core strength. I was able to hold my torso upright on my own for only several seconds while sitting solo. Then fatigue set in and my upper body slowly inched closer and closer towards my legs until I eventually collapsed to the side. It was nonetheless a very significant milestone. (And guess who didn't capture it on video.)

Another event of great significance occurred yesterday: mommy let me lick a piece of cantaloupe. It was a spur of the moment decision on mommy's part. I didn't realize what was coming. One moment I was peacefully sitting on mommy's lap contently licking my fingers and drooling like I very adroitly do.  The next moment - BAM!!! What was happening?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! Oh, what a wonderful explosion of flavor in my mouth. Where did this sweet nectar come from? How titillating it was to my tastebuds. I didn't know such deliciousness existed in this world. It was if I hadn't fully lived life until that moment. I lost all sense of my surroundings and was experiencing true bliss as I licked that heavenly piece of cantaloupe. (Mommy practices yoga for the same feeling, but I'm not sure she understands the true power of the cantaloupe.)

My life will be forever divided into two periods. The pre-cantaloupe dark ages and the post-cantaloupe era of enlightenment. While I am now a new man, I must still pay homage to my earlier unenlightened self. Below are pictures from my three and four-month birthdays (better late than never).

Love,

Swami WFT

Will The Real Santa Claus Please Stand Up?

The holidays are over, but I still have a lot to say about this Christmas business.

I loved the lights, the festivities, the good cheer, the family gatherings and, of course, the presents.  But here's my primary (and probably sole) grievance with respect to Christmas: I don't buy into the Santa Claus charade. Why, you ask? Because it's a charade and I'm no fool. Mommy made one very egregious error, if she expected me to believe in Santa Claus. She took me to get my picture taken with two different Santa Clauses in one day. The week before Christmas, we met Wells and Brady at Macy's and we all got our picture taken with Santa (as you will see in the pictures below, I was less than thrilled to have my photograph taken because mommy had just woken me up from a wonderful slumber in my stroller... but the old guy didn't look so thrilled to be there himself). Then, later that day, mommy and daddy took me to see the Zoo Lights at Lincoln Park Zoo and I got another picture taken with Santa (I was more my photogenic self the second time around).

And, guess what? The two Santas I saw that day were not the same person. How might one explain this inconsistency? Hmmmm? Mommy says that the men posing as Santa for pictures aren't the real Mr. Claus. They only work for him. I am, as always about everything, skeptical.

Here are my other Santa queries: How can someone so fat can make it down a chimney? And what about little kids who live in apartment buildings, or houses without chimneys? How does Santa Claus get to them? And why does he wear that ridiculous red suit? Finally, why did mommy dress me up in a Santa outfit on Christmas morning and prop me up on a slippery floor on which I could barely hold myself up? I look like Bambi dressed up as Santa Claus in the pictures below.

Even though I have my doubts about Santa, I really enjoyed the holidays nonetheless. Grandma, Grandpa and Uncle Steve came to stay with us for the week of Christmas. I sure loved having them here.

I was baptized on the Sunday before Christmas. The ceremony was really nice... until the end when things got very ugly. Everything was going smoothly until they started to undress me, right there in the church, in front of EVERYBODY. Then the priest picked me up, naked as the day I was born, and dunked me - three times, mind you - into a font near the alter. And this was no symbolic splashing of water onto the baby's head. I was submerged neck-deep in water. Needless to say, I did not enjoy that one bit and I let everyone in that church know it. It took me a while to recover from that traumatizing experience. A little forewarning would have been nice (and I'm talking to both of you, mommy and daddy). Of course M & D dropped the ball yet again on that.

The major highlight of the baptism is that now I have godparents (my mommy's cousin Allin and his lovely wife Anca) and they're really cool. When I can't rely on mommy and daddy (which happens often), I will have a second set of parents I can turn to. And I know that Allin and Anca won't let me down.

On Christmas Eve, in addition to Grandma, Grandpa and Uncle Steve, we had my new godparents and the rest of mommy's side of the family over for dinner. Eighteen people total. It was a loud, chaotic, cheerful, boisterous, wonderful night. There was lots of drinking, a beautiful dinner, christmas caroling, and a heated game of White Elephant. It was perfect and I wouldn't have wanted to spend my first Christmas any other way.

Love,
WFT