Less walks means more pictures

Once again, my forehead is in the way of an otherwise adorable picture...
Yes, this bathtime picture has been cropped to protect the innocent.
His new favorite state of being: in his Jumperoo! Even though it's more like a Dangle-roo, since his feet have a couple inches to go before they touch the ground, even on the lowest setting.
And for the finale of these latest pictures, his future's so bright, he's gotta wear shades.
NNW
THREE MONTHS and change
where has the time gone

A week in the life...

This week's Patriot's game wear. The hat was a bit tight the last time - so I promised him I wouldn't squeeze it onto his noggin again.
We thought the sink might be less awkward to handle our little (growing) man than his baby tub. There is no easy way to handle a bathing baby.

Taking advantage of mild temperatures and cleared sidewalks... before the latest storm.

Webber usually doesn't weather a daytime nap transfer to another surface - usually sleeps on me after nursing, or in the Bjorn during a walk outside, or around the house. Not only did I capture this rare successful daytime put down, but he's in the cradle that Baby Nate used, with Nate's childhood red ball nearby. That he still likes to toss around when he's doing some of his best thinking.

And finally... "Who are you... and what have you done with my feet?"
NNW
12 and a half weeks

Rainy Day Photo Session

I'd like to thank you all for coming out tonight.
I would've come to you but I'm still working on my Tummy Time, let alone crawling or walking.

I think you'll enjoy this story as I reminisce about my youth. Please, come closer.



That's better. See? I don't bite. Yet...

It was several days ago, early 2008. In my youth. So I'm minding my own business, when this older woman - she looked a weathered 14 weeks, give or take a few days - comes up to me, and says, "Hey buddy, you got a rattle?

Okay, okay, by "comes up to me" I mean, someone put her there. But that's neither here nor there. So, she asks me for a rattle. And I say,

"What do you intend to do with said rattle? That I may or may not have? You know, those things can be dangerous. Haven't you heard you can hit yourself in the face with them if you're not careful?"

She begs me, "Please, please, I only want to shake it a couple times. Come on, don't tease me! I saw you holding one earlier - you're hiding it behind your Bumbo!" She had worked up quite a lather of drool. It was bubbling even more than mine.

"Hey hey, lady, don't get your diaper in a bind. I was just yankin' your onesie. Yes, I'll share my rattle with you. It's not like you can run away with it or anything."


So I hand her my rattle.

She gave it more like seven shakes, but I didn't mind. I could tell she needed it, and besides, it was nice to hang out with someone who communicated with methods other than singing real and improvisational songs all day long. And asking me, in a high-pitched voice while making ridiculous faces, my opinion on everything. Like if I think we should go upstairs, or go get the mail, or have lunch. Or asking me to confirm everything that just happened. Like if I had just tooted again in my diaper. And if I had tooted in my diaper, telling me that I did a good job of it. Really now.


So I say to her, "You want to get out of here? I know a place where you can really bust a move."

To my delight, she says sure. She makes me promise to bring the rattle with us.

Sweet.

Then she asks, "How do we get there?"


Shoot.

Awkward.

Umm, "Mommm??"
(The following was said using that special TV voice that is loud enough for the intended person in the other room to hear, but not the person sitting a foot away, as long as they're off screen.)

"Could you get me out of this thing? And ask my friend's mom to do the same for her? And hold us on your laps and sing to us, something real jazzy-like? And bounce us around and make us dance? And then, when I nod/wobble my head to the left two times, could you make me do that special move that we've been working on? I think she'll be really impressed."

"But first, could you change my diaper? I just tooted. It's a really good one, too."


"Thanks, Mom! You're the best!"

NNW
12 weeks 1 day

My new motto...

...better late than never.

Here are some more Webber pics...
The first one shows one of the cutest Christmas gifts ever: a box of Nate's little boy clothes, for Webber to wear someday.
Second: yes, that is a big Santa on his stomach. Yes, Daddy thought it was ridiculous.
Third: The Sylvester family line-up.


First: My sisters and Webber, and me.
Second and Third: best attempts at capturing his increasingly frequent smiles.


Last but not least... priceless :)
NNW
Almost 12 weeks!