We took advantage of some unseasonably warm weather to break out Frankie's sailor suit and kneesocks. Someone asked me if this was "cruel and unusual." Someone else asked what boat he sails on - the S.S. Neversail? Oh, the things that we can inflict upon our children when they are unable to fight back! But you must admit, this kid looks disgustingly adorable.
And now, for some flying.
We went westward for Christmas and found ourselves at the family farm. Following are a few of the photos of our misadventures, in no particular order.
Isn't he just the cutest? (Name that movie quote.)
Frankie and Bridget wish everyone a happy new year. Now go hit the gym or something.
I had a four-day layover on my way back to the East Coast. Thus, Frankie got to meet all of his aunts and uncles during our trip on both sides of the family. These photos are from my family's Christmas get-together last week.
My parents and my brothers and sisters. I'm in there, too.
Frankie with two of his cousins. What is it with female cousins between the age of four and nine absolutely fawning over every baby cousin in sight? Frankie is already quite the ladykiller.
Frankie with his aunt Tonia.
Postings have been few and far between because of the holidays and our trip to visit the in-laws. I will satiate your appetite for more Frankie with our Christmas card, for those of you that haven't seen it yet. It's pretty amazing. If you see something in the sky above downtown Atlanta on Christmas Eve, it might be a wee babe posing as Santa and a pug dressed as Superman dressed as a reindeer.
"La la la la la...Frankie, you're beautiful, you're beautiful, you're beautiful, it's true."
(Juston really doesn't know how to play anything on the guitar. He was amazing us with one-note songs last night. We also DO NOT endorse James Blunt in this house. Your ears might bleed if you listen to that stuff for too long.)
Ready for the holidays! Hi Grandmas!
I felt it was appropriate to honor the subject of at least four of my university papers, Britney Spears, on this, the occasion of her twenty-fifth birthday. In graduate school, I wrote a quite brilliant paper on the Spears/Madonna relationship; too bad they are no longer friends. Of course, 'Spears as an icon of motherhood' would be a fun paper to write. I also own the disaster that is "Chaotic" on DVD, because it deserves further analysis. Any excuse to watch music videos for academic reasons is right by me! Thanks, Britney, for being a staple of American popular culture.
I know, it's still really early, but I found these great photos from last year and thought I'd post them in anticipation of Juston doing some ridiculous photoshopped Christmas picture with flying Bridget for this year. The Bridget shots are from the series that eventually became our Christmas e-card.
*sigh* What a difference a year and forty pounds of baby weight makes. I used to be so thin!
Here are some old photos that I came across while looking for a different image. They cry out to be shared with the world!
This first one is of Frankie in the NICU. He was born almost a month early and got to spend the first days of his life in a terribly clinical plastic box hooked up to several monitors and IV drips. He only spent four days there, though. He's a fighter. And the reason I posted this picture is to prove that my child *did* have hair when he was born. Somewhere between then and now, he lost it all.
A couple of weeks later...awwww how cute.
Newborn babies really do look like aliens. Here's the proof.
Frankie looks really fashionable in his argyle beanie. It also covers his male pattern baldness - a ring around the back and nothing on top. Yes, his shirt has a football on it. No, I still don't believe in gendering my baby by pushing sports on him at this age. But he just looks so dang good in blue.
Smile one.
Smile two.
Sly man.
Pug one.
Pug two.
Apparently Juston's been building up the anticipation for our photos from the weekend. These are photos from raking the yard - yes, that's right - raking the yard. You're in for some fun.
First up, Bridget.
The dent of an 18.5 pound pooch.
Next up, Frankie.
(No babies were harmed during the raking of this backyard.)
We plucked our baby from a leaf-covered cabbage patch.
If you look closely, you can see vermin in them there leaves.
Juston and pug
Mom, baby, and pug in various states of disarray.
And wouldn't you believe it, our backyard is once again a blanket of leaves, so this debauchery could happen all over again.
Juston managed to score a pair of tickets to Beck's secret Halloween show last night here in Atlanta. It was a small show in a small venue and tickets sold out quickly. While we both like Beck, we are not hardcore fans, but it was only $12 and I really needed a break from the baby. Going to a show and listening to loud music and jumping up and down helped me to vent some of my "Frankie is going through a growth spurt and wants to eat every 30 minutes" frustrations. (Thank you Peter and Charla for babysitting for a couple of hours!)
The show was awesome. There were no theatrics, heck, the band didn't even have their usual equipment. There was no setlist and the band took requests from the audience. Beck was dressed in his "Master and Commander" gear and the rest of the band members looked like they rummaged through a costume bin and picked out random pieces that didn't go together. I had a great time, but I do have a couple of complaints as far as the audience was concerned. Juston is 5'9". I am 5'2". I am officially short. Juston commented how there were an unusual amount of people over 6 feet tall at this show. And one of them decided to rudely push (as in literally shove) his way in front of a group of really short girls. Jerk. I paid the same amount as you, and I didn't pay to look at your back for the entire two hours. At least two other men walked right in front of me and parked themselves. I kept having to move around and manouver to see anything; next time I must wear my Buffalo Boots (tm) to a show to give myself a 3 inch platform. If nothing else, I think they might do more damage when I step on Goliath's foot.
My second beef is smoking in very tight quarters. I don't mind if you smoke, but when you are literally pushed up against several other people, they would appreciate it if, you know, they didn't risk getting their hair caught on fire or all of the polyester going up in flames thanks to Halloween costumes.
I had to share this photo of Frankie in his argyle vest. He looked so cute - he just needs to grow a tiny bit more for it to actually fit. Sadly I fear he'll outgrow it too quickly!
