Friday, September 25, 2009

Ballet Princesses who Golf.

Forgive the horrible lighting here, but I didn't want to take the time to adjust the lamps in case I missed Odette's death scene. Or Mickelson's putt on 18.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Ninety-seventh what now?

4 months old. 18lbs 14oz. 26 inches long. Head, melon-esque. We're actually going to have to procure a larger infant seat when he outgrows the one that would still fit his sister, if she hadn't gone all "20th percentile in height" on us.

Yesterday's 4 month well check uncovered nothing more than a patch of eczema on his leg, and a record breaking case of cradle cap on his head. The former gets a dose of antibiotic ointment, the latter, absentminded picking while I'm watching the new season of The Biggest Loser.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

There are no words.

Except maybe "Sorry about the pink chair, but well, you know, big sister."

Wedging him in this required butter and a shoehorn, but I think the end result is quite spectacular.

Down on the Farm

I have never in my life seen a baby of any species drain a bottle as fast as this baby goat. Not even my son, who has been known to suck his avent dry before you can say "Fat Baby".

By the way, this sweet baby's name is "Diamond". Which led to more than a few inappropriate stripper jokes, but honestly, if you name your goat Diamond, she's probably destined for the farmyard pole. And you will be sure she'll pay for her straw in singles. While she's putting herself through goat school.

I've just now taken a good look at the picture of Scarlett and her friend Barrett walking in the goat pen, and as soon as I'm done with this entry, I think I need to go find her sneakers and burn them. Because OHMYGOD do you see what they are walking in? How did I not notice that? Oh yes. Perhaps it was because one of the farmers put a chicken on their head and walked around. CHICKEN. ON HEAD.


Oh, and *vomit*.