Daddy's Little Helper

Friday is here and that's a beautiful thing because that means Mommy will have the next two days off from work. Not only that, but Cousin Sarah is planning on coming to town tomorrow night. It's going to be awesome! The one problem with this weekend, though, is the cold in the forecast. We got a lot of snow last night but 13 degrees is too cold for baby per the parental units. So now, I'm stuck indoors. Why can't it be warm and snowing at the same time? I don't get it.

I hate to keep this posting short, but I have to go supervise (from inside the window) Daddy's shoveling. Then we have to prepare for Cousin Sarah's arrival. I think I’ll help out by reorganizing:

I just hope Daddy appreciates what a big help I am.

Have a great weekend!

Kissing

Hello there! Who me? I was... uhhhh... checking the durability of this carbon monoxide detector that's plugged into this wall. It's solid- no worries. Moving on...

Anyway, I'm a little confused about something. Every time I'm asked to kiss someone or something, it's followed by a laugh from whoever happens to be in the room. From what I've observed, this doesn't happen to anyone else when kissing someone. Do I look funny doing it? And why does my object of affection always wipe their face after I kiss them? Bear doesn't laugh or wipe his face afterwards. He deserves my standard open-mouth-with-tongue-slightly-sticking-out kiss:

My favorite person to kiss is of course Mommy, but even she laughs and wipes her face sometimes. Oh well. At least she thanks me and appreciates the kiss. Even Maxwell and friend, my two teeth, like Mommy. They like her so much that they enjoy biting her nose. Mommy will yell, after Maxwell and friend have locked onto their target, "Maxwell, behave!"

Okay, Mr. Photographer, I've had enough for one day. Give me that camera!

Twins

The strangest thing happened to me this morning after breakfast. I crawled out into the living room and noticed an opening in the floor. Upon a closer look, there appeared a handsome and charming baby boy, probably between the ages of 10 and 11 months. I tried getting to him and touching him but there was some invisible force field between us. He did everything I did and looked very much like me. He was even wearing the same PJ's I had on. Could he be who I think he is? Is this my...twin? I've always been suspicious of having a twin brother. Why is he trapped in the floor? Maybe Daddy can't handle two of me during the day and that's why my twin is kept behind the force field. I'll get you out, brother!

As you can see, I tried to break through with my drumstick. It didn't work. I thought a little kiss and some raspberries could get him going and he could get out himself. That didn't work either. That's when I freaked out. I crawled away, looked back, and he and the opening in the floor were covered with the carpet again. Perhaps he's in the basement. Mommy and Daddy go down there quite a bit but they never bring me. They say they’re doing “laundry.” Now I know what they’re really doing. They’re bringing baby brother my dirty clothes to wear. What a conspiracy!

Heads-Up

This picture was taken from this morning.

No, Mommy, you aren't imagining things. Yes, you did put me in a new outfit before you left for work. Unfortunately, I had a small but significant side blowout following breakfast. Everything is okay now (except for my "dirtied" onesie, shirt, pants and socks) and I have a different but equally studly outfit on.

I mentioned yesterday that I was testing some new products. Well, after I woke up from my nap yesterday I was given an older "new-to-me" toy for my own personal collection. I don't know what it's called, but it makes loud popping sounds, has wheels, and is therefore awesome. The toy, on one occasion, did attack me. Don't you hate when your new toys do that to you?

Have a good Tuesday and please watch your head.

Time to Make the Donuts

When I used to wake up at four or five AM every morning, I would hear Mommy get out of bed and say in a groggy, sleepy voice, "Time to make the donuts." I think this meant she had to prepare me for the day and herself for a day at work. Well now she's not the only who has to get up and get working. My agent has me working from the minute I'm awake. This morning started with filming a commercial for a taste test between a butter cracker, a graham cracker, and two kinds of puffs. My smile for the winner goes to the graham cracker. I also did some product durability testing for sippy-cups and high chairs. During all of this, I like to joke with the production crew. I want to make sure everyone does their job but also is having a good time. Then I eat something that's actually part of a nutritious breakfast. Finally, and like most other movie and TV stars, I get fussy until I have my bottle.

I'm not allowed to play and then take a nap until the director says, "Cut! That's a wrap." Finally...good-nap.

Bashtastic

This is fun. Enjoying the thrill of and knowing how to purposely and properly bash into things are wonderful transferable skills for several potential future occupations under my consideration: stunt driver, demolition derby driver, bulldozer operator, snowplow driver, monster truck rally engineer, etc. I have a bright future ahead of me with an entire childhood to practice and hone my skills.

Have a great weekend!

The Red Dot

A strange phenomenon occurs some days at my house. At usually the same time, around 4:30 PM, a mysterious and elusive red dot appears. Onyx and I can't seem to catch it. Just when we think we have it, it disappears as quickly as it appeared. Now that I think of it, I usually notice it 20-30 minutes before Mommy comes home and soon after Daddy says, "Mommy's still not home. Now what do I do with you?"

Baby Proof

Baby proof? Good luck. I found this book on Mommy's nightstand. What a joke. I'm not even going to take a glimpse at it. However, I do plan, through future actions, to render it useless and obsolete regardless of what it's about. Nothing is safe from me. Proof all you want, Mommy, and I will destroy. I could write a book like this. It would contain one page with one sentence: "Never take your eyes off of baby." The end. Do you know what's not baby proof today? My diaper. I did not utilize and "dirty" it at all yesterday. That rarely happens. So now I'm cooking up a quite a storm. My playroom smells of my brand. Daddy is going to need an army to clean up this gift. OH! There it goes, and a blowout it is. New outfit please, Daddy.

Excuse the brevity of this post, but I don't have a lot of time to write. I have a lady friend (Mommy's friend from college, 'M') coming over tonight and I need to be ready to conduct some serious flirting. Beauty sleep, probably another bath after I present my "gift," and picking out a "studly" outfit are going to consume most of my day.

Enjoy your Wednesday.

Go Ahead, Take My Spoon

It would be in your best interest if you did not touch my spoon. I’m serious. Mommy gave me the spoon to use and now it’s mine…all mine. Not even Mommy can have it back. I’m eating and playing food hockey with it. Go on- just try me. Wham! You can’t stop the Matt-Attack! Lesser fools lost their hands trying to take my spoon (or at least had pureed food splattered on them amidst a fury of crushing spoon blows). I don’t want any instruction on how to use it. I’ll do it myself. Please, leave me with the spoon and the bowl and no one will get hurt. Don’t make me throw it on the floor for Onyx to lick! I’ll do it. I swear I’ll do it!

Move Over Beethoven

Do you see what I have to compete with? Talk about an impossible mission! Game over. It was great seeing Cousin Payton in Connecticut, but I have to admit that I'm glad to be back in my home state where I'm the center of attention. The whole weekend was "Payton this..." and "Payton that..." She's two weeks old now- get over it. Oh well. I guess I need to share the spotlight. I had my time and it was a good ride. It's not as if I didn't try to prevent the moving of the spotlight. I did all I could to capture some attention. I yelled and banged on the walls:

I flashed my million-dollar smile and even began reading to myself:

No one seemed to notice. All eyes were on her. Now I know how Onyx feels. I'm sure I'll get over this in a few months when Payton is old enough and we can start playing together. That will be my chance to shine once again.

As I said, it's good to be home. What's even better is that Mommy has the day off. I decided to give Daddy the day off. He took it upon himself to assign me a new mission of keeping sleepy and lazy Mommy awake throughout the day. I gladly chose to accept this mission.

Criss Cross, Apple Sauce

It's time to visit Cousin Payton! Get in- I'm driving. Mommy, you should sit up front with me. We don't want you spitting up in the back seat. Hold on tight. Wait, how do I start this jalopy? Onyx, do you mind working the pedals for me? Thanks.

That's right; we're off to see my new baby cousin. We've had a couple of weekends at home to refresh and I've had a wonderful routine sleep schedule in place for almost two weeks. That's certainly a record. Note to self: Change sleeping habit on Monday and without warning.

This trip is long overdue. We should have visited Cousin Payton when she was born. I could have helped and been Payton's labor coach. Hey, I've done this more recently than any of you. I'm practically an expert. I might as well use my skills before infant amnesia cancels out all my "traumatic" memories. We babies have to do some work with the whole delivery process too. Here's what I would have said to Payton:

"First, smoosh your head to one-half its size. Good. Now shrug your right shoulder. No, the other right shoulder. Now fight the muscles pushing you out for as long as you can...you want to make this interesting, trust me. Okay, a little Criss Cross, Applesauce. Cool breeze, tight squeeze, now you've got the shivers!"

I like that ‘Criss Cross, Applesauce’ song. I knew story time would come in handy. Being born is a piece of cake.

Have a great weekend!

BLASTED! Foiled Again!

My daddy has insisted it is necessary to keep me out of the kitchen. Supposedly, the kitchen is dangerous and I must be barred from the place unless confined to my highchair. Yesterday, he installed a gate to keep me out. I've had no say in this decision. I can't understand why he and Mommy can't cook while I'm at their feet or attempting to climb on them, the cabinets, stove, chairs, table, highchair, etc. The blue flame on the stove that comes on sometimes is fascinating and I need to be in the kitchen to point at it and let people know that it is, what Mommy and Daddy call, “hot.” Where are my rights? I've prepared some words for Daddy and I'd like to share them with all of you.

Daddy, if you seek peace and quiet, if you seek a place for me to learn about the small blue fire on the stove top, how the refrigerator door opens and shuts, and to explore the rich and fun noise-making contents inside the cabinets; if you seek liberalization for all in the kitchen: Come here to this gate! Daddy, open this gate! Daddy, tear down this wall!

One reason I need to be in the kitchen is so that I can make my great-grandmother, Ge, a birthday cake for her 92nd birthday.  Honestly, I would make her a cake if I could.  It would be easy.  I'd pat it, roll it, mark it with a 'G,' and put it in the oven for Ge and me.  Ninety-two candles would be really hot and awesome to look at.  Happy Birthday, Ge!  I love you very much.

...Clap Your Hands

Finally! I've learned how to clap. All I really have to do is put my hands together. If only from the beginning I realized it was this simple. It has taken months of training from Daddy to teach me this. I learn a bunch of stuff from Mommy, but never really take Daddy serious enough when he's trying to show me something. So right now, as far as teaching me tricks is concerned, it's Mommy 14, Daddy 1. But seriously, and to be honest, I think I put it all together yesterday at story time. They do a lot of clapping there. When I got home, I practiced on my own and sure enough, I was doing it. What other tricks can I learn? What trick is Daddy going to attempt to teach me now? He really poured his heart and soul into the hand-clapping thing. I hope that there’s something left in his tank. I know some of you may have heard this story from Mommy, but I want to tell it because I think it's silly. About a month ago, Mommy told me what Daddy did in his sleep the previous night. Apparently, in the middle of the night, he started grinding his teeth. This woke Mommy up because he doesn't normally do that. Then, he all of the sudden began humming, surprisingly in tune, 'If You're Happy and You Know It…' I’d say that's dedication, but I'm leaning toward the notion that Daddy needs a new song to sing all day. Daddy may not be my model employee or the typical baby caretaker, but at times, he really puts his heart into it. As his boss, I appreciate his perseverance. Perhaps I’ll extend his contract for at least a few more months.

When Mommy's Away, Matthew Will Play

Once Mommy has gone to work in the morning, the rules governing my care for the day become somewhat "relaxed." I've mentioned this before and I'm sure you can imagine: there are some things that are allowed to occur during the day by daddy and dog with their baby that would not happen under the care of a mommy. Would my mommy, Mommy, let me, a 10-month-old, eat chocolate frosting for breakfast, watch cartoons from breakfast until noon, and sort her week old mail pile? Of course not (except maybe sorting the mail pile because someone has to do it). Nevertheless, that's what happened this morning under, shall we say, less supervision.

Don't get me wrong- I don't have a problem with this. It's great when almost anything (and I mean anything) is under my realm of play: plastic bags, balloons, Mommy's hair dryer, lollipops, a sleeping dog's tail, etc. In addition, Daddy and I don't like changing diapers and having my diaper changed, respectively. Unless I "dirty" my diaper (Daddy doesn't want to have to smell me all day), I only get changed once and that's usually when Mommy's pulling in the driveway at around 5 of the clock. We also do a last minute cleanup of all supposedly dangerous paraphernalia before she comes through the door. Once Mommy is home, Daddy, Onyx, and I play it straight and innocent. Mommy will ask, "Where did he get this scratch from?" or, "Did he get that large bruise on his leg today?" One goofy smile from me and she forgets all about wanting to receive the answers to her questions.

New "toys" are waiting to be played with and I like to keep my inventive play-mind fresh. I had better get some sleep. Good-nap.

Ten Months

That's right! I'm 10 months old today. Finally, I've hit double digits. Look out 11 and 12: here I come. I'm ready for more. Did you notice what a big boy I am and how my body is changing? What you're looking at is pure, ripping muscle, baby! I've burned away all my baby fat. It's gone. Even my belly has converted- it's now flat and defined. I need the muscle so I can achieve new feats. How did I get this bodacious body? I'll tell you. I did it through a strict regimen of exercise and diet. My diet consists of a large breakfast immediately followed by a protein shake (formulated breast milk), then throughout the day a snack, lunch and a shake, a snack, a sensible but enormous dinner and a shake, and then a large shake before bed. Oh, and I get about 14 hours of sleep a day. Follow my routine and you too can change your body.

Speaking of changing, did you ever notice sometimes that when you wake up everything is different around you? For instance, about a month ago, I woke up from a nap and the whole house was decorated for Christmas. Then, last week, I woke up from another nap and Christmas was gone. Where did it go? Similarly, and just this past Saturday, I woke up from my morning nap and there was a crowd of people in my room. Not only that, but a smiling Cousin Yvette had just hopped in the crib and began crawling towards me. I have to admit that I did not expect any of this. I ended up having a great time once I got out of the crib and realized what was going on. I'd like to thank everyone for coming to see Yvette and I play. Mommy, thanks for throwing us a party and for making me a chocolate cake. The frosting was awesome. I know why most everyone came, and that was to see Yvette and me, but I'm not totally sure for what occasion. I guess we were celebrating my 10-month birthday early. Then again, who needs a special occasion to see this?

I do have another question.  What does she think she's doing in my jumper?  I guess she's already pushing me around and claiming her territory.  Oh well.

Have a good Monday!

My Birthday Suit...for Daddy!

Happy Birthday Daddy!

It didn't seem right to make Daddy work on his birthday, so Mommy and I teamed up for today's blog. We were quite sneaky! I plan on making Daddy's day easy, so he can sit back and relax. I've asked Onyx if he would step up and take the role of primary caregiver for the day. He graciously agreed, but there were a few stipulations:

1. drop as much food from my highchair as possible

2. play tug of war and fetch

3. let him take a 5 hour nap

So Daddy, kick your feet up (you don't do it enough) and relax for the day, Onyx and I have it all under control.

Now, Daddy is about 10, 950 days older than I am, so it makes sense that he is wiser than I. For all of you that are not as mathematically inclined, that's 30 years. (At least Mommy thinks that's right, lets just say I didn't get my math skills from her.) My Dad is top notch, the best of the best. I wouldn't be so perfect if it weren't for him. He does deal with me all day and believe me, sometimes those days can be long. Although, somehow he makes it look easy.

Dada, I hope to shower you with gifts today, figuratively speaking of course, dish out lots of goofy smiles and giggles just for you and I'll even take extra long naps. When I do wake up though, I will be ready to party. Get my maracas and drum, pump up the music, and lets rock...I'm all about celebrating you today. Mommy helped me practice my rock star look, see how excited I am...

You are the best Dada, I love you! Have a very happy and memorable 30th birthday! That's pretty old, so if you can't remember I'll try to help you out.

Have a great weekend!

Matthew Crockett

I woke up early and on the wrong side of the crib this morning. Don't worry, Mommy, I feel much better now but I'll need a nap very soon. Let's make it easy and role some footage from yesterday. Turn up the volume so you can hear the music!

Feel the Burn

This morning's workout was really tough. I finished the session by walking with my hands held way over my head by my personal trainer. My trainer has no mercy. It’s push, push, push, and then, “have a protein shake and take a nap so you can be fresh for your next workout.” Nevertheless, if this is what it takes to learn to walk, then I'm willing to go that extra mile. If afterwards I don't feel the burn, spit up, and yearn to take a nap right on the floor, I'm not working hard enough. If the workout was successful, I finally get my senses back and the room stops spinning. Stretching after a workout is important and that's why I stretch my whole body on the end table. Notice the hand placement when coming down from the stretch. That's to keep me from falling. I learned to avert disaster by flirting with it (and by falling and knocking my head a bunch of times). Can I stand at the end table? Of course- just ask the pictures on top who find themselves falling to the ground sometimes. They are at my mercy.

Now that I have all these little cousins being born and in the works, I really have to learn to be tough, quick, and aggressive. They may be little ankle biters now, but they will probably be bigger than I will some time soon. I have to be ready.

Speaking of ankle biters, my newest cousin’s name is spelled ‘Payton’ with an ‘a.’ Also, one of my production guys must have used a fill-in picture for Payton yesterday because we didn’t have one yet. So who was I looking at? Who knows, but I’m a good actor, aren’t I? Anyway… my sincerest apologies. Thank you, Cousin “Auntie” Sarah, for noticing, and congratulations on being a new aunt! Please check the updated posting below.  There you will also find a picture of the real Ostie G2.

Ostie G2

I have a new baby cousin! Her name is Payton Rose ________, a.k.a. Ostie G2. She was born yesterday, January 4th, and weighed 8 pounds, 1 ounce. Congratulations, Cousin Deliverer (formerly known as Cousin Expecting) and Cousin Muscles. Daddy printed out a picture that I'm supposed to pretend is of Payton for me to look at. She is very cute and I'm looking forward to some good times together. I think I'll fold the picture up and take it to story time so I can show all my friends.  Maybe they'll know who the picture is of.

I’ve only been around for nine months so I don’t have any great words of advice to give to my new cousin. However, I do have one message for you, Payton. Some day you will have to make a very important decision. It’s a decision that will affect the rest of your life. My only hope is that when it comes time to make this choice, even if you don’t choose to follow the Red Sox, that you will NOT be a Yankees fan. That is all.

Snowed In

Happy New Year! The picture above was taken this morning and is of me sitting on top of a bunch of snow. I was allotted three minutes of outdoor playtime for the day. My time outside is restricted due to the low temperature. Mommy doesn't want my beautiful and pristine face to be damaged in any way by the elements. Yesterday it was 10 degrees but the weatherman said it "feels like negative seven." I'm not sure what that means. Anyway, there's all this awesome snow outside and I'm stuck inside. It's as if I'm trapped in a bubble or behind glass. I'd even love to help with the shoveling. Instead, I had to supervise from the inside. Hey, Daddy, you missed a spot!

On New Year's Day, Daddy and I watched a football game. I need to get up very close to the TV in order to take in all the action because we don't have high definition. Football is very exciting: it kept my attention for a record four minutes. I'm also wearing my new clothing line called "Matthew," by Matthew. Now, when the chicks check out my posterior, they'll also know my name. Note to self: Add my cell number underneath the name. 

Also this past weekend, my hair stylist (Mommy) and I worked on some new looks while I was in the bathtub. You may notice in the second picture that I have a battle scar on my left cheek. The other day I was just minding my own business and learning to stand up when all of the sudden I fell and was attacked by a large wicker basket. I was known as "scar face" around the house. It makes me look tough, but the scratch is almost gone. So where was I? Oh, yes, the hairstyles… which one do you like best? Text your vote (1, 2, or 3) to 239487.  Only 99 cents per text message.