i wish i could speak whale

You know that scene in the hit movie "Splash" when "Madison" (Daryl
Hanna) says her real name in her native language and the noise she
makes breaks all the TV screens? David can make that noise now. He
also has "ga-ga" (but not "goo-goo"), ma-ma, ba-ba, and
"supercalifrajalisticexpialidocious."

excuses

Sorry that I am not posting as often these days.

I have recently switched computers.

and operating systems

and service providers.

It is easier to coordinate our nation's intelligence-gathering agencies That is the excuse the 9/11 commision could have used: "Well you see, the CIA was using WinXP, the FBI was using Mac OS X "Jaguar", the Clinton Whitehouse was using Linux, and "W" Switched everything to Dos and an old abacus."

I am super busy. Jaime and I now sit down weekly and schedule out EVERY HOUR of the following week, alotting blocks of time to each of us each day of uninterupted work at the computer while the other (or someone) occupies Mr. Gets-Bored-A-Lot.

David is now "high maintenance"--like a Frank Lloyd Wright building.

I have pictures--David's first experience of a swing and David's first contact with hot-air balloons. I will post them as soon as I load the photo software on this computer, transfer the images over, adjust them for your delicate connection, and get around to loading them to the Web.

Meanwhile, if you would like an accurate and up-to-date photo, do this: print a previous picture from this site or one of the links. Tape the picture to a can of paint; a gallon or a pint will work equally. Take the can of paint to Home Depot or the paint-purchasing venue of your choice. Ask them to place it on the paint shaker so that the photo is visable. Shake. That is about the level of energy and mobility we have achieved here.

Stay tuned busy fans.

aunt skylar is leaving

Aunt Skylar told me back in July that she is leaving and I haven't posted about it. I have written several posts, but none of them seemed to actually express how I feel about this move.

When she told me, I cried. I cried for all the years that we have been together. I cried for all the time that we have NOT been together that I feel guilty about--time that I keep desperately hoping I will get a chance to make up for. Well, I can't make that time up. My kid sister who grew up to be my friend is leaving and I am going to be sorely lonesome.

I will keep a picture of her by David's bed always. And before he goes to bed, I wil read to him from her blog.

back in the saddle

I have fixed the recent problems with the image transfer on the blog. Now, the color of my son's poop is no longer left to your imagination.

later, imaginary fans.

the giant new car seat

We graduated to the next size of car seat. The next size up is gargantuan. This is the last seat we will have to buy. It converts as he grows so that it will get him through college. But it is big. Gone are the days of pulling the car seat out and carrying David around by the handle. The car seat is now a permantant part of the truck--like an inoperable tumor.

This is now the routine: Carry David and all of his stuff to the truck. Dump stuff on floor of truck and set David in the back seat next to his giant new car seat. Climb into the back seat with David. Place him in his giant new car seat. Assemble the the various latches and binders while he whines. Climb out. Get into front seat. Arrive at destination. Pull stoller out of the back of the truck and open up. Climb into back seat. Disassemble the various latches and binders of the giant new car seat while David whines. Pull him out of the giant new car seat. Set him on the back seat next to the giant new car seat. Crawl out. Reach in and pull David out. Place him in the stroller. Assemble the various latches and binders while he whines.

Look around. If you happen to have a four-door automobile just lying about that you aren't using, please send it over.

later giant new car seat fans.

smile

David has new laughs and new sylables. He is practically carrying on conversations. Really really funny conversations, apparantly.

When he sees me, he smiles. He wakes up in the morning and makes little sounds letting me know. I walk to his crib and he stares at me for a moment and then breaks into a smile. When he laughs and smiles, he scrunches his face, roles his eyes, pulls his knees up to his chin, his chin down to his knees, and puts his hands in his mouth. It is a totally bashful, delighted, full-bodied laugh. I get this laugh when I zerbert him, when I throw him in the air and catch him, and when we sing "Alouette."

I particularly like it when he smiles with his pacifier in his mouth. Hiding the mouth accentuates how much of the smile is in his eyes.

He has a different smile for the dog. That is a full-voiced guffah with the kicking legs and pumping arms. He strains and reaches for the dog, and if he gets it, he grabs it by the fur and tries to eat it.

We bought him one of those seats that hangs from a spring that hangs on the door jam. This was an event worthy of a whole new range of laughs and smiles while he pumped his legs making himself jump up and down and up and down for half an hour until finally I took him out.

Yesterday, in line at the post office, I was caught in a lengthy conversation with an admiring stranger about what a beatiful baby he is. While we talked, he smiled and giggled at her. Today at the doctors office waiting room, he grinned and laughed at another patient for about five minutes. She asked if he is always such a happy baby.

Yes, he is.

About the only time he doesn't smile is when we point a camera at him. He is way too interested in what that camera is than in smiling. So, like the Loch Ness Monster and Sean Penn, you don't get to see photos of his smile.

Yet.