Saturday, July 29, 2006

The Many Faces of Silas

Dearest Readers:

Mama and Dad decided to document my best time of day: the morning. I tend to be my most expressive at this time of day, which Mama loves and Dad can hardly believe (since he is a night owl himself. I'll show him!)

I could comment on each picture, but I'll let y'all make your own educated guesses as to what I'm thinking in each pose. The player who guesses the most correct answers will win one poopy diaper change the next time we meet!

Thursday, July 27, 2006

The Education of Mimi and Pop

Dear fans: Silas here. Sorry it's been so long since I posted. It's been a pretty hectic week. Some new people came to visit. I thought I had met everyone already--mama, dad, grandmom, grandpops....who else could there be? Then, one day last week, some new grandparents showed up on our doorstep. I kept telling dad to check their identification to make sure they were legit, but he ignored me. Apparently he thinks he knows them from somewhere. In any case, mimi and pop came to visit, and they are pretty fun! They brought presents like clothes and bibs (what's a bib for, again?). We went all over the place, to a museum and a mall and to lots of restaurants. Wow did I get exhausted! Well, here's the photo record of their visit.

Here's me and pop hanging out on the couch. Look at that innocent, unsuspecting face. He'll learn how the world works soon enough (pop, I mean).

Don't look so surprised, pop! I'm a baby. I HAVE to poop in my diaper. It's what we do. Besides mama and dad get upset when I poop anywhere else. Sorry about the disturbing noise it makes sometimes.

Mimi likes to sit in the glide rocker with me. She knows how to hold babies just right. I suspect that she has done this before. I must ask dad about that, later.
My favorite shirts have bumpy things on them. Thanks, mimi!Mama says I get "milk drunk." What's "drunk" mean, again?
Mama took me to see yet ANOTHER person (she called herself "April"). April loaned mama and dad a "hug a bub" wrap. It's like I'm still in mama's belly. Mama was singing to me and teaching me to dance. Shake your tailfeathers, mama!

After the trial breaking-in period, I have decided to keep mama around. She's pretty cool.

Mmmmmm, boob.

Why are you disturbing my sleep? Get that light out of my eyes. Oh, wait. It's the sun. Well, in that case, Ahhhh-choooo!

Well, I'm a busy guy. I gotta go. Word!

Thursday, July 20, 2006

Hereditary Brain Damage

So this person known as "Grandpops" arrived for a visit a few days ago. They say we have the same earlobes, and he keeps trying to get me to say his name.

I am beginning to see where mama's braindamaged-ness comes from, and I have to say, at this point I'm frightened that it actually might be hereditary. Here's some photographic evidence from our trip to the Henry Ford Museum:

Everyone was real glad to see Grandpops, particularly Grandmom.

This is Dad trying to get me to take a bullet for him. What a wimp!

Mama and Dad decided we needed to go for a 3 mile walk the other day and had to find the perfect hat for me to wear on this momentous occasion. Le sigh....the things a baby has to put up with. It's almost criminal.

In other fashion news, Mama was very excited to get me in my first "butt sweater". Apparently, this wool thing is as good as the plastic pants they usually cover my diapers with. I like it because it's a) WAY more fashionable than the boring white plastic ones and b) it allows my "butt" to breathe. Dad was skeptical at first, but we're glad he's coming around.

Alright, all this "blogging" is wearing me out. Time for my nap! Peace out, Napoleon.

Saturday, July 08, 2006

I am learning to amuse myself

Dear Readers:

Silas Hickox, here. I have taken some time away from the dispatches to try to understand this new situation I find myself in. For as long as I can remember, I had everything mastered. I remember not having to breathe, or eat, or poop. All I used to do was suck on various parts of my body, occasionally get the hiccups, and turn towards the light. Now I have lots of new distractions, and several things that test my patience. If only I could get mama to start eating, breathing, and pooping for me again. In the meantime, I amuse myself by practicing variations on those basic themes. For instance, I learned how to shoot my poo across the room. Sometimes dad is so stupid. He actually took my diaper off the other day. Well, I don't have to tell you that I saw my opening and I took it! I pooped AT LEAST 3 feet. Then, as an encore, I peed on dad, and puked on a clean shirt. It was pretty fun. As long as I have to poop for myself, I may as well go for distance. I'm pretty sure I can beat my record next time.

I went to the doctor last week to be weighed. He told mama and dad that I gained 23 ounces in one week. Is that a lot? I have noticed a bit of a spare tire forming around my mid-section. Maybe I'll have to lay off the boob a little. Either that or join the gym.

Anyway, here is the photojournal of my last few days, and the sorts of things that I have been practicing. Here, dad and I just woke up one morning. He does this "head butt" thing that mama thinks is funny.

Personally, I think dad is brain damaged.

Grandmom usually takes me first thing in the morning, when mama and dad are still groggy. Okay, so I'm a little groggy myself, sometimes.

Then mama feeds me. I have learned that it is polite to say "thank you" with a hug.

Most of the rest of the morning, we hang out and mama talks to me in a funny voice. She even talks to people on the phone in that voice too. I guess she and dad are good together. Apparently even brain-damaged people can fall in love and get married. I hope the brain damage isn't hereditary.

I have been trying to perfect my character acting. Here I am as Napoleon. I don't know who he was, but apparently he was short and cute and put his hand in his shirt a lot.

This is me as the baby that swallowed a bowling ball.

I am so beautiful. You'll have to talk to my agent if you're going to take any more photos of me.

No fair! You caught me sleeping! Don't you think I'm hiding those 23 ounces very well?

Dad and I were having a serious talk about why his chest is so much less interesting and less useful than mama's. I still don't understand, but I'm pretty hungry, guys. Guys?

I hate everybody.

Saturday, July 01, 2006

The saga continues

Hey, peeps! Silas here, with my journal of my activity. It turns out that my parents ARE a bit slow, but they seem to be functional. Maybe with time and patience they'll turn out alright.

A couple of days ago the doorbell rang just as I was getting busy eating. Someone brought in this "basket" of "flowers." There was also a "balloon" that was really big and floaty. It all smelled a bit like mama's shampoo. I guess they make shampoo-scented flowers. Who knew? Anyway, someone named "Grandpops" sent the flowers. I don't understand how that all works, but this alleged "Grandpops" seems okay.

Shampoo-scented "flowers" and a "big bunny." Why is that so funny to everyone?

I finally got to finish eating. Thanks, mama.

After I ate, the whole family sat around for awhile, including my "sister" the cat. I'm not going to get all hairy like that, am I?

Next, we went for a "walk." Still not sure what that means, but we got to smell more "flowers" and the "sun" kept making me sneeze (just like it makes dad sneeze). Why I have to be squeezed like I'm back in mama's tummy I don't know, but I must humor the "special" people who are my parents. I hope I don't keep feeling this superior to them forever!

Grandmom gave me a "baby plug" or a "fooler" (but the REAL name is "pacifier"--I saw it on the package). It was as big as my face, and it didn't taste at all like mama, but apparently I will have to humor Grandmom, too. Sigh.......

Is somebody torturing a cat, or is that dad singing? Please make it stop!

Finally I got to do what I want to do. The buzzy bee is sooooo cool! Oh, and the seat hums and vibrates my tushy. This is the best thing, so far, except for mama.

All that commotion made me want to get down with my bad self just a little. By the way, I am NOT break dancing. That was over in the 80's. It's just that I can't stand up, yet. Duh!

That was a pretty full day, so I'm off to bed, right after I give a shout-out to my homies. Peace!