Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Walking, those first steps!

So for a little while Zachary has been standing up and walking on fingers like a champ. And over the last few weeks we've been dropping those pinkies he clings so tightly to, and have had him walking one handed. In the last few days though he has made some motions towards stepping one maybe two steps. But nothing we would ever call walking, until today. He had his back to the couch, and stepped away, one, two, a wobbly three, and back on steady legs for four, then crash, down to the floor. Only four steps but with those I'm calling it, the first steps!
But, we have not had a repeat, yet.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

As much as Snoop loves his mama?

Yup. I do think Z loves us thaaaaaaat much.


Our plane had to go BACK TO THE GATE to pick up Snoop Dogg and his crew.

Yes. The economy is doing so badly that they're flying JetBlue. It looked like his mother picked him up in Burbank, but I couldn't vouch. It was very weird. His bodyguards (i'm assuming that's who they were) were the size of small houses. It was intense. They required seatbelt extenders. Also? Apparently Snoop is banned from Heathrow Airport. And British Airways. Which isn't a problem, because apparently the UK won't actually even let him enter. So that.

Zachary was a busy busy boy, but a good traveller. He looooooves his new car seat. Right up until he was exhausted and we were stuck in traffic on the 210. Then he cried till he threw up. *sigh* Hopefully it will not be a habit. He looked surprised. We felt bad and stopped immediately - I think he was a bit overheated (both from the crying and the fact that the high here was 90 - its cooling off a bit already). And totally exhausted.

We're staying in an apartment run by Caltech. Its nice to be somewhere with a kitchen and a room seperate from the bedroom, so Z is crashed out on the floor while we get a little work done. More later.

And no, I didn't let Mark take a picture with Snoop Dogg. BECAUSE I'M THE WORST WIFE/MOTHER/DAUGHTER EVER.


Monday, November 17, 2008

We're off!!!

And that's that :) We'll be in pasadena till Saturday, then in Santa Cruz till Nov. 30th.

OH! And we think we've got a first word with "Mama". He had a day of very authoratative speech (rather than babble). We may have also had "Light". Today, Mark reports a day of howler monkey communication. We find ourselves saying "Use your words!" quite a lot. because really, I'm not Annie Sullivan, and I only have finite interpretive skills.

In other news...

I don't remember and have to keep packing. :) But we'll update from the road.

Friday, November 7, 2008

Evel Knevil

is really the father of my child.

It was bound to happen. Zachary finally threw himself off the diaper changing table.

Frankly, I'm glad it has taken this long. And possibly a little surprised. It was traumatic, we were both within like 1 foot of him, Mark had a hand on him, we both managed a hand, but didn't catch his fall. HE IS ABSOLUTELY FINE. He may have damaged the drawer he landed in, but otherwise unscathed.

Of course, this morning he gave himself a bump on his head. How, you ask? He tried to dive through the floor. From sitting. No falling. He was sitting on the floor, and tried to duck under a sheet, but apparently expected the floor to move away from him. It did not. Echoes through our concrete floor ensued. I comforted him, instead of laughing. Ok, I laughed first. But discreetly. And comforted him.

Bath time *is* awesome

Thursday, November 6, 2008

that's Z, sound asleep on my lap. We're adjusting back to our split schedule. He just crawled over, nursed for a minute and passed out. I don't have the heart to move him. He's warm, he looks like a sloth, he's snoring, and I can reach my laptop to work on my public talk for tomorrow night.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Monday, November 3, 2008

because it had to happen sometime...

Last week Zachary pooped in the bath, much to the amusement of Sarah and I. Zachary was a little traumatized, mainly from getting yanked out of his bubbletastic warm fun place, to get wiped down and cleaned up.