Science Fair

This morning I'm entering myself in a science fair at the elementary school where Aunt Leslie teaches. I know what you're thinking: 'Matthew can't enter that science fair! He doesn't live in the same school district.' Well, it won't be a problem. Aunt Leslie is my aunt and my "in." Students can pick from the following project types: controlled experiment, demonstration, model, and collection. I chose a demonstration involving the first law of thermodynamics and the conservation of energy (the second law can wait until I'm a little older). Specifically, I'll discuss the implications of heat transfer by using fire as an illustration. I realize I will have to dumb my explanation down a bit. Therefore, I'll simply tell everyone that fire is "hot."

Mmmm... is that first place that I smell cooking? I think so.

Have a great weekend!

Cabin Fever

I'm tired of being inside.  I know I'm sick but I still want to get out there.  It would be good for me.  The snow is awesome and I want to roll around in it just as Onyx did this morning.  There's no wind yet.  I'll be fine.  Daddy said he might take me outside later for a little while if I was feeling up to it.  That's when I started telling him I need to go now, especially before the wind starts.

Daddy didn't even budge, not even when I began biting his leg.  So then, I went to my viewing window and pleaded with anyone in the neighborhood who would be listening.

But, no one paid any attention.  Can't anyone recognize my sand scooper banging distress signal?  I should be outside, sledding and frolicking.  No, a trip to the grocery store doesn't count.  Let's face it: I'm stuck inside.  Cabin fever has already taken a hold of me.  That's my official diagnosis.  Wait a minute... what about you?  You could get me out of here.  Hey you!  Yeah you- out there in Internet Land!  Will you please save me?  I'm begging you.  C'mon, work with me people!

BLIZZARCANE!

That's right!  You had better stock up on diapers and curl up with your big stuffed bear for warmth because a hurricane-like blizzard is coming to town. It's coming to where I live, in the city of Hometown in the state of Northeast (you thought I might disclose where I live, opening the door to a blizzard of fans and media, did you not?)  Anyway, "they" are calling for 70 mile per hour wind gusts.  That's 112 kilometers an hour!  Not even my chunky thighs could anchor me down and keep me from blowing away.  We have snow on the ground already and have a possible 18 inches more on the way.  I'm not tall or heavy enough.  I had better stay inside.  First, Daddy and I are heading to the store to get some provisions in case we lose power and are stranded in our house.  Our list includes bottled water, formula, dynamite, graham crackers, and sugary, fatty snacks for Mommy in order to keep her active and warm.  I'm still getting over a cold but I'll be prepared.  My cold has transitioned to the slurping, lip-smacking consumption of whatever is constantly running out my nose.  Other than that, I'm feeling better and ready to signal when and from where when the snow starts falling.

I can't see!  I plan to keep a lookout but the window is too high.  Darn these blasted short legs!

On Top of the Weather

Did I say I was sick yesterday? You might not believe me if you saw me now. I feel much better and I'm not exactly sure why. Last night was rough (again). I went to sleep fine but I woke up soon after. The better part of the night was spent between Mommy and Daddy's bed and the couch. Mommy would cuddle with me and this helped me fall asleep. Then an hour or so would go by and I'd wake up crying. I was a cranky, snotty mess last night. Yesterday, I did not want to eat or be in my crib alone. The only time I smiled was when I talked to Mommy on the phone during lunch, when I woke up from a late afternoon nap, and when Mommy came home. The rest of the time, I was crying, passing gas, or sleeping on top of Daddy.

Except for the fact that I'm sleepy and have a runny nose, I'm surprisingly getting back to my old self quickly. I was bummed that I was sick yesterday because I've wanted to work with and demonstrate some new brainpower I've developed. How did my brain get bigger and squigglier? It was by eating fish for the first time. I had little pureed salmon the other night. It was combined with orange juice and carrots. Sounds tasty, doesn't it? It sure was. You see, salmon is chock full of brain-building omega 3's, which from what I understand convert smart brains (like mine was a few days ago) to genius brains (like mine is today). With my new special power in tact, I decided to work with shapes this morning. I also taught Onyx to be a little tamer.

As you can see, I can get the blue circle down. I'm sure I'll have the other shapes figured out by this afternoon. First, however, I need to take a nap, wake up, have a snack, do Mommy and Daddy's taxes, have some lunch, and then take my afternoon nap. Hmmm, I'm going to have to miss story time. I don't want to get anyone else sick. I'll have my assistant call the library to tell them I'm won't be there. They'll probably cancel the whole thing.

Onyx was very concerned about me when I was not acting myself. He doesn't say it and he really doesn't show it either, but I know he was worried. This picture captures a tender moment he and I had when I put my hand on his paw and said, "I'm okay, Onyx. I'm okay."

Strike that. I just woke up (abruptly) from my morning nap. I'm about as good as yesterday. I'm sure I'll be better soon.

Under The Weather

You may be able to tell by my disheveled hair and swollen, red eyes that I'm not feeling well today.  I woke up crying at around midnight last night.  Mommy comforted me and I fell asleep again until 6 AM.  That's when I woke up and wanted no one but Mommy.  I've been sobbing, running my nose, and yawning all morning.  Daddy gave me my bottle and that has settled me down... a little.  I'm trying to sleep now, but it's not working too well.  Get me out of my crib, Daddy.  I'm sick and I need a bottle and some snuggle time.

Picking Through The Interference

Do you ever get the feeling as if something is clogging you up, cognitively speaking? As if some object, unwanted but not necessarily useless, is nevertheless impeding access to your creative side? Perhaps you may sometimes feel like your brain, obstructed by a strange and unreachable phenomenon, is not receiving all it needs to function at its best. Regardless, you have something to do but you can't fully concentrate on it and you don't know why. Something is in the way and you can't quite put your finger on it. You want to push your way through, to puncture the interference in order to clear a path for refreshing newness. I think I'm having that kind of feeling. I'll be better by Monday.

Have a great weekend!

Follow-Ups

 

I've said this before and I'll say it again...I'm not great at following up with some of my posts. Sometimes when I blog I'll mention that I'm investigating this or attending that and you never hear about it again. Therefore, I thought I would do you all a favor and clear up some things you may still be sitting on the edge of your seats about.

1. On 7/6/09, in Is it gas? It's gas. It's gas, isn't it?, it turns out that sometimes the problem was gas. Now, however, I'm much better at handling the situation. I just do what I need to do... if you know what I mean.

2. On 9/3/09, in Spit Happens, spit does happen once in a great while but certainly not to the degree that it once did. I use bibs primarily as a formality when I'm eating. It's very similar to how the Greeks wore napkins and started the tie trend. Before you know it, and thanks to me, men will be wearing bibs instead of ties.

3. On 10/21/09, in Is This My Real Daddy?, DNA tests reveal that the Pillsbury Doughboy is NOT my real father.

4. On 12/17/09, in Hold The Eggs, Please, I was having trouble eating eggs. Now I love them and have no problems in getting them down. Refer to #1 above on the consequences of me eating eggs. In addition, I've learned what the word "no" means. Apparently, "no" means to proceed with whatever you are doing and do it with a smile and a little more vigor.

5. On 1/21/10, the The Red Dot explores the mystery of a red dot that appears soon after Daddy says, "Mommy's still not home. Now what do I do with you?" No known cause has been found and the investigation continues. I'm leaning towards the notion that aliens have landed and they are attempting to communicate with and recruit Onyx and I, us being the right fit in helping them achieve their secret quest for world domination. Think about it...no one will suspect the cute, innocent baby and his trusty Labrador retriever sidekick.

6. On 2/5/10, in I'm Your Man, I was the man at my first playgroup. I didn't even need to use my "moves." At one point that afternoon, I was just crawling when suddenly a slightly older little girl who can walk (that's how I like my women: older and able to walk) "accidentally" fell on top of me. I held my ground in the crawl position and supported both of us. We spooned for a few seconds, the mothers and Daddy laughed, and then they separated us. My smoothness continues today during my next playgroup meeting.

7. On 2/14/10, in Will You Be My Valentine, Mommy?, her answer was, "Yes." I apologize if I kept you in suspense on that one.

So there you have it: a few blog housekeeping items taken care of. You're welcome.

Let Sleeping Babies Lie

As I mentioned before, weekends take a lot out of me. I normally get some good long naps in on Monday and Tuesday, that of which both Daddy and I appreciate. My morning nap yesterday was no different. I was out like a ceiling fan that isn’t turned on (they should always be turning for my amusement). That's when Daddy attempted to wake me up. I know what you're thinking: waking up a sleeping baby is just down right silly. However, we had an appointment to meet with Aunt Leslie, Cousin Kyle and Cousin Wade. So there I was sound asleep. Sometimes I just wake up when my door opens. Not this time- not even close. Daddy opened the door, drew open the curtains, rubbed my back and gave me a wet willy. Even Onyx tried to wake me up.

Finally, after 10 minutes, I woke up. It took me a minute to get it together. I was not happy at first. Then I felt better when I remembered why I had to get up. We met Aunt Leslie and my "little" cousins at Barnes & Noble. I had a great time crawling around and wreaking havoc on the books and bookshelves. Afterwards, we ate lunch at Panera. For the first time ever, I ordered my own meal off the menu. It was a kid’s meal consisting of grilled cheese and a tube of extra-sweet yogurt. I ate the entire meal (except the crust, which was a little tough). As far as I'm concerned, this means that I'm officially now a kid and no longer a baby. From now on you will all refer to my classification as such. Thank you. My nutritionist was not too happy about my meal selection. Nevertheless, I was stuffed and tired, requiring a delightful two-hour nap yesterday afternoon. Good times.

While looking at the picture above, Daddy said to add more hair and a little drool and I would “look just like Mommy when she is sleeping.” He’s probably right.

The Shovel Method

I am eating and all is quiet. What does this mean? It means that I'm eating spaghetti pie for the first time and it's good. In fact, it's awesome. Maxwell "likey." Thank you Ge, for passing down such a wonderful dish for my parents to prepare. I'm sure to grow up big and strong now. I am still working on wielding a mean spoon. When the food is this good it would be nice to be able to use the shovel method. If I could use my spoon with one hand proficiently and use my bare hand then I'd be able to get more food in my tummy in less time. That means more time for play.

Can you guess what activity occurs after I've eaten anything with spaghetti sauce? That is correct! Bath time!...

...Johnny, tell them what they've won.  Johnny?  Hello?  Never mind.  You'll just to have to settle for looking at this:

Congratulations.

Ball Pit

On some days, Daddy will gather and present to me some common household items or contraptions to play with.  Often, this works well for me and helps to preoccupy my time.  I'm a baby, and therefore I like new things to observe and play with.  For example, the pots and pans were a great idea.  I played with them for hours.  Sometimes, however, his ideas are not so hot.  For instance, let's take his 'ball pit' idea from this morning.  It was a rather sad attempt at something that, if much bigger and better, could be so much more fun.  The idea has potential, but the effort of bringing that idea to fruition was seriously lacking.  Here's what I thought of it:

There's a lesson to be learned with this.  I hope you all paid attention.

Will You Be My Valentine, Mommy?

Happy Valentine's Day, Mommy.  I love you very much and I'm glad that we can spend the whole day together.

Love,

Your Little Valentine,

Matthew

My First Haircut

Finally! My agent flew a guy named Frank in from San Francisco to cut my hair. Thanks for the nice work and the magazine, Frank. For $500, he cut the shag over my ears and trimmed my bangs a bit. It's a reasonable fee for a celebrity haircut. Frank didn't cut much off but I feel much lighter. I'm also suddenly hungry for milk for some strange reason. I had better go get a bottle.  Goodbye for now and...

Have a great weekend!

Eleven Months

I am eleven months old! That deserves a round of applause. Thank you, thank you. You're too kind. Do you know what this means? I will be 12 months old in one relatively short month. That's an entire year! I am such a big boy. Yesterday or the day before my other top front tooth broke through. Now I have four teeth! There's Maxwell and Maxwell’s friend on the bottom and Pang and his new friend, I. B. Bitey, on top. I've learned to make a new noise by scraping Maxwell and Pang together. Mommy heard it first and thought I had something in my mouth that shouldn't be. Daddy got shivers when he first heard it last night. He said it sounds worse than nails on a chalkboard.

My photo session this morning went well (for me). I still have fun giving the photographer a run for his money. He did catch me off guard slightly this time by putting me in a different chair. He also gave me his cell phone for preoccupation purposes. I played it a little easy, too, in order to catch him off guard for my twelve-month picture. He won't know what hit him then. I had a hard time deciding what photo to lead with. The picture keeping with the monthly tradition won, but I really like this picture of me striking my favorite standing pose. Can’t you hear my pose saying, “Oh baby, I’m feeling hot. Do you want to rub my belly?”

Have a great day and please, if you do anything this next month, prepare for March 11, the grandest day of my year.

If You Talk To My Mommy...

...Tell her I need a haircut.

My hair is beginning to take over my head. It gets in my eyes so I can’t see and when I put food in my hair the food ends up on my long and luscious eyelashes. I know Mommy is hesitant to have it cut. She doesn't want me to lose my babyish good looks or lose the hair I was born with. Apparently, long hair is the style with young boys today. I guess the girls think it's "hot." In fact, a book publisher contacted my agent because they want me to model for the cover of a romance novel. This is going too far. Look how scruffy I'm getting:

I at least need a trim. That's all I'm asking. If not, then soon the other babies at story time will start pulling my hair. I can't allow that to happen because that's what I do to them. That's my thing! Hair is such a hassle. I have to comb it after breakfast every morning in order to get the oatmeal and eggs out.

And why won't my comb fit into this electrical outlet? Oh, right. Blasted receptacle covers!

I really need to talk with you, Mommy, about my hair situation. I'll wait for you at my viewing window until you come home. 

What!?! She won't be home for eight more hours? I can't wait that long! Okay, I'll sleep for four hours, eat for one to two and change clothes and play for a couple more. That leaves about 15 minutes of waiting time this afternoon. I can play with the curtains and watch the snow to help pass the time.

Tough Guy

That is what I'm known as around here- 'Tough Guy.' Why? Because I'm tough, that's why. Especially under Daddy's supervision, there are no prizes for getting hurt. If I fall, I get up again. It's that simple. No pain, no gain. I drink blood, sweat and tears for breakfast. If I begin to cry, Daddy will say, "There's no crying in baseball!" To be honest, this makes no sense to me because he'll say it whether we're playing baseball or not and sometimes he'll say it just out of the blue. Either way, I get the point (I think). When I fuss no one fusses over me and says, "Oh sweet little baby, are you going to be okay?" Instead, I get either the baseball line or no line at all. I've learned to move on from falls and scratches. You want examples? Sure. Onyx stepped on my head last week. You may have seen the red scratch over my left eye. I fell, hitting the back of my head on the ground, and in the process tripped Onyx who then stepped backwards onto the front of my head. I was very dramatic-traumatic for about 10 seconds until "There's no crying in baseball" rushed through my head. Then I went back to playing. Another example and something I forgot to share: Last month I had some blood drawn for a routine test. Some lady stabbed my finger and then kept squeezing it. I watched her fill up two vials of my own blood. You probably think I cried, perhaps even a little. Wrong! What did I do? I smiled and flirted with the little old lady the entire time and then waved goodbye.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to drink a glass of raw eggs, Rocky style. Yo Mommy! I love you!

Tooth Pang

If you're reading this, you may taking a break from working or doing something you don't really want to be doing. Regardless, you're wishing that the powers that be declared the day after the Super Bowl a national holiday. Well, I don't feel bad for you. I wasn't allowed to stay up and watch the whole thing. Mommy tried to put me to bed early but I pleaded with her to let me stay up to see who won. I missed the game anyway and I'm tired this morning because of my pleading last night. Either that or I couldn’t get to sleep because I have a huge front tooth slowly breaking through on the top left. I wasn’t planning to name this new tooth, but he’s earning it. I think I’ll call him Pang. So Maxwell, Maxwell’s friend, and now Pang are in my mouth and doing their thing. Anyway, as I was saying, I can just snuggle in Mommy's generic Snuggie and G.G. blankets all morning. Are you jealous? Good.

I'm typically tired on Monday. There's too much fun to be had when Mommy is home all weekend and so my naps are not a major priority as they are under Daddy's care. As I said, I went to bed late last night. I also woke up early this morning. As a result, I'm tired but hyperactive. As Daddy says, I was "all over the place and into everything" this morning. I wanted to cozy up with the blankets but I couldn't settle down.

It's time for a nap. Actually, I'm in my crib right now. Daddy just put me in here. Even though I was hyperactive, I'm not making a fuss over the “you need a nap” mandate. I know I'm tired and I'm going to take advantage of some sleep. First, though, I'm going to lie down on my back and kick the side of my crib. The banging noise is somehow soothing. I wonder how long I can keep thi...

I'm Your Man!

Earlier this week, immediately after story time, some of the mothers of my friends came up to Daddy and I and asked if I'd like to join their playgroup. After learning that the group consists mostly of girls and that they need another boy, I did not hesitate, somehow speaking and putting my first words together in what I think is an English accent: "I would be delighted to join your playgroup." (It's going to be a few years before I can talk like that again). I had to speak up because I wasn't sure that Daddy would say yes. C'mon- these girls need me! So what if it's mainly because I'm a boy? I'm certainly willing, particularly under these circumstances, to be that "guy." From what I understand, opportunities like this don't present themselves often in a male's lifetime.

Today I attend my first playgroup. Mommy got me all shined up last night and now I'm ready to go. Clean diaper? Check. Tic-Tacs? Check. Smooth operating moves? Check and check.

Have a great weekend!

What Does A Matthew Say?

There are many things people try to teach you when you're a baby. Most things are just "cute" tricks, while others appear necessary to learn in order to be a successful member of society. One such learning objective deemed important in my house is the ability to duplicate animal noises. To be honest, I'm not really catching on yet and I'm a little nervous about it. Mommy and Daddy are constantly drilling me, asking, "What does a pig say?" or "What does Onyx say? He says, 'woof!'" We even work on these sounds at story time. Once, everyone at story time thought I was saying a duck sound. They were very impressed. Little did they know that I was simply trying to push some gas out of my system, making a sound that I guess resembles that of a duck quacking. If you don't think the importance of learning animal sounds are stressed in today's youth, then just take a look at all my animal stuff: books, puzzles, stuffed animals, etc. My parents even got me a black Labrador retriever for goodness sakes.

I've been lost with this whole thing and searching for a way out. That's when I found an enlightening book. It's a book that opened a new world for me that doesn't place such emphasis on animal sounds. In fact, it's about Old MacDonald and his farm animals, who apparently are attempting to escape their stereotypical animal sound shadows. The book is called, Old MacDonald had a Woodshop. Instead of teaching animal noises, the book explores a wide variety of noises that tools make. For now, it is my rebellious escape.

Regardless, if I'm going to make it to the top I guess I'm eventually going to have to learn my animal sounds. I can see it now: my first interview for school or a job. The interviewer will say or ask, "Tell me a little about yourself," and, "If you could have dinner with any historical figure, who would it be and why?" Satisfied with my answers thus far, he or she then asks, "What does a cow say?" That's when I draw a blank. Finally, after what seems like an eternity of silence, I respond, "How big am I? Soooo big!"

Pots and Pans

I cannot even begin to describe how much fun that was.

Sleep Study

Naps are awesome. They make me feel good. I'm much easier to put down for a nap these days. Typically, I get in my crib, put my butt up in the air, and close my eyes and wait to fall asleep. Sometimes, however, my body is not yet ready to sleep. I may be tired but not sleepy. That's when I decide to play. I like to pull up in my crib, bite my blanket, or wrestle around with Tiger, my stuffed lion. If I'm not feeling sleepy at all, you may hear me babbling, yelling "Da!" or reaching for and knocking the thermometer/barometer off the wall. Eventually, I do get sleepy and fall asleep. Where in the crib I fall asleep and my final position depends on my last get sleepy activity. Finally, Mommy or Daddy, I'm assuming, come in and place me in a proper sleeping position in the middle of the crib. Otherwise, I may wake up on top of my blanket, in the fetal position, and with my head crammed in the corner of the opposite side of the crib. I wake up cranky when this happens.

The following video was taken during my morning nap yesterday. I was tired and so I didn't do anything too silly. It took me about six minutes to fall asleep. The video has been edited and the second half is in double-speed because you should have better things to do than watch a baby attempt to fall asleep for six whole minutes. So put your night vision goggles on, grab some popcorn, and enjoy the show.

Speaking of sleep, I need some more. I didn't sleep very well last night as I kept waking up. Mommy and Daddy must have slept great because I didn't see them coming in to check on me. I may have a cold or a tooth coming in. I'll just take a good nap this morning and feel better when I wake up. Look at me- I'm exhausted:

Good-nap.

Shooting Star

Last night I presented an award at the Grammy's for 'Best Spoken Word Album For Children.' I made a very silly entrance by playing a little peek-a-boo with the audience. Here it is in case you fell asleep while watching:

I had a very fun weekend. It was negative 12 degrees when I woke up Saturday morning. Needless to say, I didn't go outside. Cousin Sarah came and we entertained each other. We're pretty much on the same level and so we both had a blast. She brought me an awesome turtle that lights up and projects stars and the moon on the ceiling. My room also has a shooting star: me. Now I get to fall asleep underneath some constellations. All I need is a cricket and a fire pit and I'm practically camping.

By the way, I'm aware that my videos do not always work. There's not much I can do about it because the problem is not on my end. All I know is that "they" on the other end are trying to figure out what's wrong. I suspect it's the millions of fans that view my blog every day that's clogging up the Internet. If only Al Gore would take some time to invent Internet 2.0, we wouldn't have this problem. My Gramp, unbeknownst to me, is apparently some computer whiz guy now and he figured out that if the video doesn't work you can click on the posting in the blog archive (somewhere to your left). Then the video should work. If not then try again later.

Look at the picture below. Don't I look very mature today? I think so. I woke up like that. I'm amazing in my sleep.