There is no sound in the world quite like the hysterical laughing shriek of your own child.
That's all for now.
P.S. I hope everyone is still enjoying this blog. If you can think of ways to improve it, please let me know. I'm always looking to up my readership and improve the quality of the posts.
September 29, 2010
September 27, 2010
My Daughter, The Elvis Impersonator
What's the next thing to do after you've mastered walking? Why, dancing of course!
She just can't help herself! When the music is playin', she gets the itch! Just gotta move! Just gotta groove!!
Afterwards, we celebrated with a fried banana and peanut butter bottle.
Thank you! Thank you very much!
She just can't help herself! When the music is playin', she gets the itch! Just gotta move! Just gotta groove!!
Afterwards, we celebrated with a fried banana and peanut butter bottle.
Thank you! Thank you very much!
September 26, 2010
My Daughter, The Bowler
There was a huge thing a few years ago with a baby who was laughing hysterically when he tore a piece of paper. I wish I had grabbed the camera sooner because then you could have heard that she was laughing just as hard.
September 23, 2010
My Daughter, The Face On The Milk Carton
Since Sara and I were under the weather, my mother-in-law swooped down and whisked Harper off to the medical safety of her house for a few days. We are eternally grateful for the fact that she will not catch the blight that has been put upon us by what I can only assume is witchcraft or devilry.
Two adults with this is bad enough, but a baby with the inability to think "I can feel bile rising in my throat and a sense of increased gravity in my lower bowels. Perhaps I should meander off to the bathroom, or at least a tiled room, so as to minimize the blast radius" I think it would be too much I would have to move to Cambodia to become a monk to atone for my life of sin.
With that said, by the time I pick her up tomorrow, it will have been a full 70 hours since I've seen the baby.
I miss her something fierce.
**frowny face**
Two adults with this is bad enough, but a baby with the inability to think "I can feel bile rising in my throat and a sense of increased gravity in my lower bowels. Perhaps I should meander off to the bathroom, or at least a tiled room, so as to minimize the blast radius" I think it would be too much I would have to move to Cambodia to become a monk to atone for my life of sin.
With that said, by the time I pick her up tomorrow, it will have been a full 70 hours since I've seen the baby.
I miss her something fierce.
**frowny face**
September 22, 2010
My Daughter Cares Not For Your Disease
Human babies prove that Darwin was a fool.
Never in the history of any species has there been a creature with less self-preservation.
After spending Monday night evacuating all substance from her body, my poor and half-broken wife wandered into the living room in preparation to head to the hospital to get fluids forced back into her. What does my daughter do?
"Oh mother! It is so wonderful to see you! I care not for your virulent strains of plague! I care not for the phlegm dripping from your every orifice! I wish to thrown my tiny arms around you and press my face into your aching body, sharing as many fluids as possible!"
Had there been sharp objects around, she would have asked to use them as replacements for her pacifiers.
Two days later, with Sara recovering at home, what is Harper doing?
Aren't those the cutest shoes? Once her feet grow and they stop being clown shoes, they will still be cute.
Never in the history of any species has there been a creature with less self-preservation.
After spending Monday night evacuating all substance from her body, my poor and half-broken wife wandered into the living room in preparation to head to the hospital to get fluids forced back into her. What does my daughter do?
"Oh mother! It is so wonderful to see you! I care not for your virulent strains of plague! I care not for the phlegm dripping from your every orifice! I wish to thrown my tiny arms around you and press my face into your aching body, sharing as many fluids as possible!"
Had there been sharp objects around, she would have asked to use them as replacements for her pacifiers.
Two days later, with Sara recovering at home, what is Harper doing?
Aren't those the cutest shoes? Once her feet grow and they stop being clown shoes, they will still be cute.
September 20, 2010
My Daughter, The Dental Patient
6:20 am: No toner or paper for the school copier, no clue what I'm teaching today/this week. Perfect time for a blog entry!!
Dear faithful reader (no, the singular is not a typo. I have no delusions,about the popularity of this blog),
I must apologize to you. I have not been as diligent in the updating of this blog as I have in the past. This is only semi-intentional. I did not want this blog to turn into a mundane list of daily activities, detailing the every move of myself and my family. I wanted it to be an irreverent list of daily activities, but it turns out that I'm not nearly as good of a writer as I want to be.
I know that in order to be good at anything, you need to practice regularly and Kurt Vonnegut says that to be a writer, you need to write every day, no matter what you write. Sadly, while things are happening that I think are cute and adorable, I don't think that they are for the general public, or that I could explain them in an interesting enough way to even entertain myself.
On top of all of that, I have been monstrously busy, not necessarily with work, but with time-consuming activities, like traveling to and from work. This semester, I'm "teaching" a physics lab at Duquesne University, which means that on Tuesday and Wednesday, I leave my house at 5:15 am to get to school with enough time to do my work before the copier gets hogged by Social Studies teachers, leave school around 3:30-4 to drive to the university, teach the lab from 6-8 and get home between 8:30 and 9. Sadly for me, this means I don't get to see Harper at all on these days, which I hate. She's asleep when I leave in the morning and (hopefully) asleep when I get home.
As a direct result, I've been trying to make the most of the weekends, spending as much time with my women as possible. This past Saturday, Harper turned 10 months old and my mom turned (something)7 so we went to Philadelphia to celebrate. My grandmother took the family out to dinner at an amazing restaurant that I will never go to unless someone else pays.
During the day, Sara, Harper, my mom, Joan and I went to a Renaissance festival near New Hope where I got to wear my kilt, Harper got to wear her kilt, and I ran into someone with whom I went to high school and have not seen in 11 years. The festival was great fun and, as with the Scottish Highland Games, people stopped and gaped in wide-wonder at the joy they had found in my daughter toddling around in a kilt.
We've also found that as a gift for turning 10 months old, my daughter received a molar.
My baby is growing up so fast!
Since I am updating this from work, I don't have any new pictures or videos, but I hope to post some when I get home today.
HAPPY MONDAY!!!
Dear faithful reader (no, the singular is not a typo. I have no delusions,about the popularity of this blog),
I must apologize to you. I have not been as diligent in the updating of this blog as I have in the past. This is only semi-intentional. I did not want this blog to turn into a mundane list of daily activities, detailing the every move of myself and my family. I wanted it to be an irreverent list of daily activities, but it turns out that I'm not nearly as good of a writer as I want to be.
I know that in order to be good at anything, you need to practice regularly and Kurt Vonnegut says that to be a writer, you need to write every day, no matter what you write. Sadly, while things are happening that I think are cute and adorable, I don't think that they are for the general public, or that I could explain them in an interesting enough way to even entertain myself.
On top of all of that, I have been monstrously busy, not necessarily with work, but with time-consuming activities, like traveling to and from work. This semester, I'm "teaching" a physics lab at Duquesne University, which means that on Tuesday and Wednesday, I leave my house at 5:15 am to get to school with enough time to do my work before the copier gets hogged by Social Studies teachers, leave school around 3:30-4 to drive to the university, teach the lab from 6-8 and get home between 8:30 and 9. Sadly for me, this means I don't get to see Harper at all on these days, which I hate. She's asleep when I leave in the morning and (hopefully) asleep when I get home.
As a direct result, I've been trying to make the most of the weekends, spending as much time with my women as possible. This past Saturday, Harper turned 10 months old and my mom turned (something)7 so we went to Philadelphia to celebrate. My grandmother took the family out to dinner at an amazing restaurant that I will never go to unless someone else pays.
During the day, Sara, Harper, my mom, Joan and I went to a Renaissance festival near New Hope where I got to wear my kilt, Harper got to wear her kilt, and I ran into someone with whom I went to high school and have not seen in 11 years. The festival was great fun and, as with the Scottish Highland Games, people stopped and gaped in wide-wonder at the joy they had found in my daughter toddling around in a kilt.
We've also found that as a gift for turning 10 months old, my daughter received a molar.
My baby is growing up so fast!
Since I am updating this from work, I don't have any new pictures or videos, but I hope to post some when I get home today.
HAPPY MONDAY!!!
September 12, 2010
My Daughter, The Scot
If I ever needed independent confirmation that my daughter is painfully adorable, I received it this weekend. We went to the Scottish Highland Games in Ligonier and I got to wear my kilt (Blackwatch tartan). I also got to buy a new one (MacKenzie tartan) as well as a ghillie shirt so you can guess how I'm dressing up for Halloween this year.
I also bought a tiny kilt for Harper. I found one in Blackwatch so we would match, but she looked MUCH cuter in Lindsey.
As we walked around, me in my kilt, Harper in hers, walking at a toddler's pace, half a dozen people asked if they could take pictures because she was so cute.
I also bought a tiny kilt for Harper. I found one in Blackwatch so we would match, but she looked MUCH cuter in Lindsey.
As we walked around, me in my kilt, Harper in hers, walking at a toddler's pace, half a dozen people asked if they could take pictures because she was so cute.
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