Bad blogger

What can I say? Life as I knew it no longer exists -- Sofia is mobile. My blogging time is now spent keeping her out of the fireplace, taking dog kibble out of her hands and generally trying to prevent life-threatening injuries. These distractions are quite fine by me, as it also takes my mind off our never-ending winter, just made even more gray by a lovely layer of ash from one of Mt. Redoubt's eruptions.

We've otherwise been staying busy fending off the stomach flu, celebrating birthdays, teaching dance (that one's just me), and chasing the Sof-ster. She's getting smarter and smarter every day, watching what I do and then trying it out herself. She's turning the pages of books when we read to her, she "combs" her hair, and has figured out how to open numerous things she should not be opening. She sure has a knack for turning everything she touches into a potential injury.

And, of course, the walking! See for yourself:



P.S. My b-day present was a new video camera. Now I can actually upload videos onto my computer! Yaaay! Be prepared for tons of gratuitous baby footage.

Tiny dancer

The little man

Because he deserves more than a Tweet

Aidan McIntyre was born early this morning, on Friday the 13th under a full moon. Good thing we don't believe in omens. Everyone's healthy and doing marvelously. 6 pounds, 14 ounces, and a little fuzz on his head with some male-pattern-baldness-style hairlines in effect. Tough to say who he looks like right now, he's still a little squishy. But a handsome kind of squishy.

Sofia has another cousin to add to the list and is no longer the main show in town! Shoot, I guess this means we're next in line...

Of martinis and pickles

As we cruise disturbingly quickly toward Sofia's first birthday, the milestones keep piling up. I'm currently getting a gas out of the following:

- She turns the pages of the book when we read, and that's regular pages, not board books. Also, she's consistently doing it with her left hand, so I think it's pretty certain that she's a lefty.
- She's latched onto my "uh-ohs" when she drops something and is now almost saying it herself. A lot.
- She dances any time a beat is created. When we turn music on, someone claps, etc. She's got the clapping thing down, too.
- She loves pickles and spinach. Not at the same time, though that wouldn't surprise me. She spits out Cheerios, but goes crazy for pickles and spinach.
- She FLIPS OUT with excitement when Daddy shakes the martini shaker. I don't know how this even got started, but she can be at her most grumpy and when that shaking starts...look out. Party animal here we come.
- She really loves the vacuum cleaner. This is to the point where it's actually difficult for me to vacuum because she follows me around and tries to grab the vacuum or the cord.
- Hmmm. The last two points bode well for the future -- just give her a martini and a vacuum cleaner and let her go to town. Just kidding. Or...maybe not??

She stands!

She crawls!

She loves her tongue!


She wants to eat the camera!


A laugh a minute, that's for sure.

Carnage. This time for real.

I totally expected all sorts of new bumps and bruises as Sofia learned to stand and walk. What I did NOT expect was her to chip a tooth that had barely even emerged from her gums. Yep, she lost her footing while playing with her little table and took a spill, and, I'm assuming, hit her tooth on the table on the way down. Imagine how fun it was to find blood and a fragment of baby tooth in her mouth. Poor little monkey. But she's just fine, she cried for a minute and it's been business as usual since. Just with a battered gumline now.

And now I've gotten my first taste of wanting to fix something for my baby that can't be fixed. Better get used to that feeling, eh?

Mayhem, carnage and pasta

The restrained beasts snorted, hoofs kicking the ground and sun glinting off the sharp points of their horns. Crowds of spectators gathered anxiously along the sides of the chute, awaiting the beginning of the fabled event and the prospect of carnage and mayhem. The participants in the chute cast repeated glances over their shoulders. What was going through their heads? Fearful thoughts of being trampled or gored as they tried to outrun the beasts? Excitement at the thought of the impending adrenaline rush? Perhaps they were looking for an escape route?

And then...the beasts were released. The participants surged forward, sometimes with only mere inches separating flesh from horn. From our safe vantage point, John, Sofia and I cheered along with the rest of the crowd.

But wait! A participant is desperately reaching out! Hand outstretched, she...pets the beast? And hold on, what's that? That beast over there just stopped to eat a carrot. And that one stopped running and is now walking the other direction.

Welcome to the annual Running of the Reindeer, a ridiculously entertaining event in Anchorage. And, one in which my parents actually participated! See, can't you see the terror in my mom's eyes?


Petting the reindeer:



This was as close as we got to carnage:


Apparently the Lord Himself sanctioned the event?


And, of course, Sof:


This has nothing to do with reindeer, but later that evening Sof learned how to lick the pasta sauce spoon, and LOVED it. Next we need to teach her how to dunk a chunk of bread into the pot...