Tashmoo!

It was a busy weekend. And beautiful! 80 degrees and sunny. What a life!

On Friday, I went to my second ever parade. Milford Homecoming.

Thrilling.

We were a tad late but we had to stop by to see my friend Jack.

He and I were in the middle of wagering on the Queen when this was taken.
Serious stuff, you know...

On Saturday, I helped Dad plant irises. 

We had to stop for a snack. I'm practicing my bottle eating. In less than two weeks, Mom goes back to work and I'll be taking some 12 squares via silicone teat.

And on Sunday, Mom and Dad took me to Detroit. To the Tashmoo Biergarten to be exact. 

We had beer.

A fancy bacon brat.

And more beer.

Prost!

Grrrrrrrr...

Eat 'em up Tigers...

Eat 'em up.

p.s. Happy Pierogi Day!

Giggles with Gram

After Wednesday's traumatic event, I thought I would stop to focus on the past. Back when things were good. When people in this house loved me and played with me and didn't take me to get shot full of diseases. (I know, I know - I'm saving the world one shot at a time. But I say, let another baby be the hero!) Anyhow, let's reflect on last week. When Grandma Betty was here and life was good.

She baked me a birthday cake. I know, Dad looks crazy. But Mom and I look good so we'll include the shot. Priorities, you know.

She brought me this crazy toy and set me up for kicking practice.
Watch out, homecoming queen kicking girl!

She set me up in my big girl chair and we talked social security.

She babysat me while Mom and Dad golfed, then brought me for my first visit to "The Club."

She held me a lot.

Let me practice my Cat Woman (care of Karyn) moves on her bed.

Was patient when brother Owen joined our sleepover.

Took me for a walk in my pickle hat, which she made.

Yawned with me after the stroll.

Bounced me to sleep.

Taught me to suck my thumb. (Mom and Dad are happy...for now. They'll worry about the orthodontist bills later.)

And I helped her pick up black walnuts. Well, to be honest, I supervised from the under-the-table-safe-spot. Heads-up!

Like I said, life was good.

p.s. Hope you had a good birthday, yesterday, Gram!

Happy Birthday, G-Ma!

My Grandma and I share a birthday. I'm 10 weeks old. She is 63 years young.
Happy Birthday, Grandma!

I love her and miss her very much.

OUCH!

Yesterday was a rough one. Started off fine - I went to the YMCA and hung out with the other kids there while mom took a class. I had a bath. I went to see my new doctor.

They weighed me. On a real baby scale. Chunkin' up - nearly 12 lbs. Puts me at the 70th percentile. (I'm also 23" tall - 75th percentile, and my head is 15.75" - also the 75th percentile. Above average but not obnoxiously so. Subtle. That's me.)

 Dad joined us. I was happy to see him - of course - and did some jumping.

And then, out of nowhere, they stuck me! Twice! The nerve?! To show them how I felt, I cried like I never cried before. It worked. Mom cried too.

So Dad took over and walked me out of that awful place.

I have been above average following the appointment as well - exhibiting not one, but two of the vaccine reactions. I'm sleepy (reaction) and when I'm not sleeping, I'm fussing (reaction). It's hard on all of us but at least now Mom and Dad know what a good baby I am normally!

Smiles with Dad

I love my dad. He makes me smile. A lot.

But today he's taking me to get my first shots. So eat up these smiles. Might not see them for awhile. *sigh*