Practicing my modern dance moves. This piece is called "akshomon" which is Japanese for "chubby baby". 

My new parka for when I go skiing and snowshoeing 

Me and my new good friend C.C. 

Daddy, Mama, and Me seeing Christmas Lights 

What I Do All Day Long

Sorry for the long delay in not writing. Thanks to Aunt Gracie for the phone call to spur me on to more postings. Some of you may think I have all of this free time to blog, but my day is pretty filled up most days. You may scoff and say what can a baby be doing all day long? Don't they just eat and sleep? Au contraire my friend. I do much more than that. Let me briefly describe a couple of my major activites.

(1) My favorite activity and perhaps the one I am most adept at is something called blowing out diapers. It involves doing a "poopie" in such a way so that this "poopie" escapes the confines of my diaper and gets all over my clothes. It is not easy to do. Most babies only manage to accomplish this every couple of days. But me -- I do this several times A DAY! In fact, I may be the world's foremost diaper exploder. Too bad it is not an Olympic sport, though I hear it is in the works. With my luck, I'll be toilet-trained by the time they finally get it approved. It takes quite a bit of technique to do it right, but I seem to have perfected. Not to get gross, but you save it up and then let it go all at once. It's hard work, but it's all worth it when I see the look on my Mama's face after yet another blowed up diaper.

(2) Hanging out with my Woodland Friends = I have these good friends whom I call the Woodland Friends. One is something called a butterfly, another is some kind of bird, and the final one is -- well, I don't know what it is. A blob maybe. But I'm sure it is from the Woods -- hence Woodland Friends. They are on something called a Mobile I have on my swing (shout out to D-Dawg and Jo-Jo Dancer for the happenin' swing). And when Daddy pushes a button, my Woodland Friends start moving around (usually in circles), and they sometimes play music. I enjoy watching them and talking to them. I just chatter away at them for hours. But strangely they never really talk back much. I think it may be because they are playing music, but who knows? Mama says they may be stuck up, whatever that means. I think they are just good listeners and they never seem to interrupt me, like Mama and Daddy sometimes do.

(3) Boxing practice - As you can see from the photos, I like to box. I've practice at least four hours a day. Mostly right and left crosses, but also uppercuts and roundhousers. Daddy says I'm more likely to be a Sumo Wrestler than a boxer but we'll see about that.

(4) Milk Connossieur = Like there are wine connossieurs (sp.?, cut me some slack I'm a baby), there are also milk connossieurs. I happen to be one. I make it a point to try as many differents bottles of milk as I can each day. If I don't like it, then I refuse it, and send it back. I start by sniffing the plastic nipple, and then I inhale the bouquet of the milk. Most of the milk I drink has hints of cherry, coffee, dried raisins, and caramel in the bouquet. Pretty complex. I must compliment Mama. I usually stay with fresh milk, but occasionally, on special occasions, I'll ask for something older, maybe something from earlier in the week, or on very special occasions, I ask for something from the freezer(aka milk cellar). I keep a journal of which milks I like best, and I on occasion contribute to the magazine Milk Spectator. A quick word about formula -- ugh. Imagine if someone tried ti produce wine in a laboratory. Heresy! Same goes for formula. It tastes nasty, although I still drink it. But if you watch my face when I'm drinking it, you know I'm not happy about it. But it's still food. I'm not going to turn it down. I mean, have you seen me lately? I'm as plump as a Christmas turkey (whatever that is).

(5) Debate = I spend a couple of hours each day debating current events with Shaky and sometimes Pup-Pup. Recent topics included whether the Ukranian (wherever that is) elections were rigged, who the new DNC Chair should be (as long as it's not McAuffle again, I'm happy), and what to do about the steroids crisis in baseball. Pup-Pup is a conservative (you should hear him rant about Democrats -- he sounds like a stuffed bulldog puppet version of Ann Coulter), Shaky is a liberal (his roar sounds a lot like Howard Dean's), and I'm in the middle, so it's a good group. My own personal version of Crossfire.

(6) Look cute = One of my main jobs is to appear as cute as possible as much as possible. Hey, when you rely on other people for just about everything (food, changing diapers, etc.), you tend to do what you can to keep in their good graces. It's called marketing yourself. Just as you would dress up in a suit and tie to go to work, I have to do the same. I feel like a debutante rushing a sorority or something. I always got to make sure that my outfit is cute, that I have a cute expression on my face (such as my patented "doe-eyed" stare), and that I smell good. Now you may think this is in direct conflict with #1 above (blowing out diapers). You would be right. But I'm allowed a little fun, aren't it? Besides, Mama and Daddy think it is a normal part of being parents. Heh Heh. If they only knew.

(7) Listen to NPR -- Mama turns on NPR and classical music for me in the afternoons. Very thoughtful of her. I keep up with the news, and hear some good classical music. I especially like Aaron Copeland.

(8) Practice my fake cough -- Whenever I do something I shouldn't (see #1 above), I have developed a technique to get out of trouble. It's called the fake cough. It takes some practice to get it right, and I spend time every day working on it. It works like this: Mama & Daddy get mad at me for something (though they never say anything to me, I can tell from the way they look when they get mad or frustrated). I usually try my doe-eyed stare on them, but that doesn't always work. When it doesn't, I go to the fake cough. A couple of "Hea Hea Hea"s and Mama and Daddy fawn all over me. They sit me up straight, pat me on my back, and say "Are you all right little buddy?" They forget all about whatever I did to make them mad. But I may have to develop a new technique. Aunt Julie, smart cookie that she is, called me out on it. She told Mama that my cough was fake. I think Mama and Daddy are on to me now. So next time I see Aunt Julie, I got a little something special for her. See #1 above.

Me, Uncle Judd, and Aunt Julie 

Me in my Elvis jumpsuit!  

Practicing Boxing, in particular my right cross 

Me and Shaky 

Me talking to Uncle Judd and Aunt Julie 

Washington DC

Hi, I'm back. I had a really good weekend. My uncle Judd and aunt Julie came up to visit me in Richmond. Uncle & Aunt J aren't really my uncle and aunt (so I'm told), but might as well be. They gave me lots of attention and made all sorts of funny faces at me. I even learned how to "howl" with Uncle Judd. I talked and talked and talked with them, though I don't think they understood me. They said I was very talkative.

On Saturday, we went to brunch at a place called Zeus Gallery. It was sorta boring. Lots of grown-up talk. I just slept mostly. Then we watched Kentucky play basketball against North Carolina. Uncle Judd is a big UK fan. It was pretty clear early on that UK just didn't have it. Their 2-3 zone just couldn't match up with North Carolina's big man, especially Sean May. I'm only a baby and even I knew that you got to go man-to-man, or at least a box in one, when you are getting outrebounded like that. Poor Uncle Judd. He was pretty mad after the game, but we howled some more, and I think that made him feel better.

Then we want out to the mall. That's always fun to go there. Lots of things to see! All sorts of colors! And we had dinner at Maggiano where we had gone previously with Jo-Jo Dancer and D-Dawg (my grandparents). We had fun there! There were lots of other babies there. In fact, we sat next to another baby, this little girl named Amanda. She was pretty and about the same age as me. I think she cooed at me (but it could have been gas I guess). Anyway, before we left, I got the courage to ask for her phone number. Unfortunately, she doesn't quite know her numbers yet, so she couldn't give them to me. It's just as well I guess. Mama says I can't date until I'm at least 9 months.

Then we want home to watch the SEC Championship. UT didn't look so hot. Daddy was getting pretty frustrated. But then Tennessee came back. They tied it, even though they looked real bad in the first half. But then the referees cheated and made UT lose (or so Daddy says). He says that pass interference call and those ineligible lineman downfield calls were totally BOGUS! Daddy was pretty disappointed after the game. But then he played some video game football with Uncle Judd, and he won, so that made him feel better.

On Sunday, we went to a place called Washington DC. We went and had brunch at Georgia Brown's, a Southern restaurant. They had really cool ceilings. I've become something of a ceiling connossieur (sp.?), sinice I spend a lot of time looking at them in my car seat and in my parent's arms. Most ceilings are boring, but occassionally, you'll get a ceiling fan, a mobile, or if you are lucky, some freaky art stuff. That's what they had at GB's, some type of art work, and it was awesome. I looked and looked and looked. And some girl was singing Jazz in babytalk. She kept saying "beedeebopboopzeebop". Finally an adult who can speak babytalk! It was all quite enjoyable. THen we went to see some monuments. The WW2 and FDR monuments. Pretty cool. Then Daddy and Uncle Judd drove away to go to a concernt by a group called the Pixies. They didn't get back until late. I hung out with Mama and Aunt Julie. I like Aunt Julie a lot -- she likes to play and talk with me. Daddy finally got home late, and I missed him so much that I cried some so he would hold me and feed me. He did, although he kept falling asleep. Mama did too.

So that was my weekend. Lots of fun.

My picture 

Intro

Hi, My name is Will, and I'm almost three months old. I've just learned how to start talking, but the words don't seem to come out right. Instead, Momma and Daddy just say that I coo (whatever that is). It'll probably be a couple more weeks before I can actually get this speaking thing down. But I can write. That's easy. So I had heard of this blog thinggie and decided to give it a whirl. It is a little tough to find the time to make it to the computer and type these posts out since Momma and Daddy are constantly hovering around me catering to my every need (which is sorta nice by the way). But I manage to crawl to the computer at night when they are asleep. And when I can't, I send out a messenger. Like Shaky. Shaky is one of my bestest friends. He is what they call a bobcat, and he likes to roar a lot when he is squeezed. He has been designated by Momma and Daddy as my guardian angel. He makes sure nothing bad happens to me and scares off scary monsters by roaring at them. And Pup-Pup too. He is this bulldog puppet that apparently used to be Daddy's friend when he was a kid. Puppets frankly sorta scare me, but as puppets go, Pup-Pup is pretty cool. Anyway, I sometimes tell Shaky and Pup-Pup what I need, and they get it for me (like chocolate -- that stuff is awesome). Or they'll go to the computer and answer my e-mails and write an entry in my blog. But I'm writing this one myself.
Oops. I hear Momma coming. I better slither back off to the bassinet, or I might get in trouble. I'll try to write more later.

- Will