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...