On a snowy morning four years ago today, this li’l thing came into our lives:
Thankfully, she was li’l-er then:
Happy birthday, Emily!
(And, yes, that is an Independence Day shirt re-purposed to mark this occasion.)
On a snowy morning four years ago today, this li’l thing came into our lives:
Thankfully, she was li’l-er then:
Happy birthday, Emily!
(And, yes, that is an Independence Day shirt re-purposed to mark this occasion.)
Emily and our parents went to Chicago this past weekend to see The Book of Mormon Pinkalicious.
The trip included her first train ride:
There was a tall building ... :
... pizza at Gino’s East ... :
... breakfast at Yolk ... :
... an urban playground (several times) ... :
... and of course the main attraction:
(Assessments of the musical varied by age. To get some idea on a scale of one to 10, start with 150 and divide that by the square of the attendee’s age.)
A movie star was sighted at Rock Bottom, where certain Pinkalicious patrons tried to wash away all memories of the play:
Look! A giant Woody!
The trip home:
For what it’s worth, we think Emily’s favorite parts of the trip were the cab rides from and to Union Station. Because there were no seat belts.
There were some. Here are some pictures:
Notice me in the above photo. I’m like Waldo.
Emily trick-or-treated as Belle this year:
She got lots of candy.
I got a rock.
Just in time for Halloween is the return of the Emily monster:
Pickin’ pumpkins:
In her costume:
Returned to normal:
Some people appear to live under the delusion that Emily and I lead exciting lives, and that monthly (or even weekly!) Grinky.com! updates are therefore merited.
Allow me to set the record straight. This is my life:
I have been assured that the days of my baby sister are similarly filled with tedium.
So please stop complaining about the dearth of new Grinky.com! content.
I promise you: If something interesting happens to either of us, I’ll let you know.
Did you know that 3.5 is one-twelfth of 42?
Me, neither. Anyway, happy birthday, Momma!
Pool pictures:
An old-school slide:
Some bath paints:
And modeling a new dress and new (accessorized) pajamas:
One day recently, Emily kept saying she wanted to show us something, but we couldn’t quite understand the words. We figured it out after she started to pull her pants down:
Ah, yes. She wanted to show us “The Plumber.”
This weekend, my parents and Emily went to see the play If You Give a Mouse a Cookie:
And our Independence Day fun included Grandma Janet, harmonica lessons, a big boat, and fireworks:
In truth, I don’t like fireworks. And that’s why my parents bought me the Thundershirt dog-anxiety solution.
Hey Thundershirt people! Where’s my product-placement dough?
You haven’t heard from me in a while, but that’s because things have been extraordinarily dull ... even for a family for which “extraordinarily dull” is pretty exciting:
See?
Emily is doing very three-year-old things, such as swimming:
She was also given Momma’s camera to use. Between you and me, she did no worse than her Daddy:
... so she shall now eliminate you:
Mommy, Daddy, and Emily went to Florida. They told me I could come when I was finished eating all the snow. Hmph.
Here was Emily dipping a toe into the water shortly after arrival:
Traditional annual photo at the Hotel Don CeSar:
Traditional annual Mr. Bones beer-coffin photo, now with more shark slippers with light-up eyes:
At the beach:
Near the beach:
Not nearly as close to the beach:
Celebrating Emily’s third birthday (again):
With Grandma Janet:
And even though there was a beach, Emily preferred to go to the playground:
Back home, Daddy built Emily a snow fort and then ambushed her:
Traitor.
Emily turned three years old today:
She got a blizzard.
Emily has enjoyed wearing her Happy New Year “headband” the past few days:
We celebrated the New Year with her at midnight GMT. I have no idea what that means.
Here Emily and I are sharing the bean-bag chair:
This wonderful invention is a recent discovery for me, even though we’ve had it for well over a year.
2011 will be the Year of the Big Girl. On New Year’s Eve, Daddy and Mommy magically transformed the crib into a big-girl bed — which allows Emily to enter and exit at will.
I don’t expect this will go well.
Grandma Janet visited the weekend before Christmas:
She brought a cape and muff for Emily, among many other things:
On Christmas morning, Santa brought Emily a Tinkerbell umbrella and Tinkerbell slippers, just as she requested:
(And a Tinkerbell bowl, and Tinkerbell underwear, and ... .)
The day after Christmas, Emily assisted in the making of this very small, devil-eyed snowperson that bears a striking resemblance to my Daddy:
Here’s Emily in front of our tree:
Here’s me in front of our tree:
On Christmas Eve, Emily helped make the cookies for Santa:
She put the cookies on the table for Santa:
And then she ate the cookies for Santa:
(In truth, Emily [like her Daddy] was just taste-testing the cookies to make sure they were good enough for Santa. You’ll notice that we started with four cookies on the plate, and there were still four cookies on the plate when Emily was eating one. Really, Santa! I swear!)
Emily liked helping to pick and decorate the Christmas tree.
This was the scene after it was done:
And the tree itself:
(My German is very good.)
We all know that when it comes to leaf-raking and -bagging, children are most useful as impediments to make the adults’ work harder:
But they can also be used to pick up leaves:
And although it displeases the children, they can also be made to rake:
Yet unbeknown to most parents, children can also be effectively employed as leaf-compactors:
And that makes everybody happy:

Kids: Let this be a lesson to you about the perils of not brushing your teeth!
Emily is sometimes pretty cute:
Grandma, Grandpa, and Uncle Ron visited for Thanksgiving:
I am happy to report that I got some turkey.
The pants-less wonder feeding me peanut butter:
Eating a baby orange:
Nursing a boo boo:
And while I’m no photographer, I think this was shot through a yellow filter. Or a yellow balloon:
This is Emily the bumblebee on Halloween, shortly before trick-or-treating:
And our pumpkin:
And Emily wondered if anybody was down there:
... she is absolutely, positively ready for Halloween.
The parental philosophy of natural consequences dictates that when a 970-day-old child drops her fork on the floor, she can eat with her hands.
This is the natural consequence of that.
Offered without comment:
Daddy: “Open, Sesame.”
The garage door opens. Daddy pushes the stroller inside, then walks back outside.
Daddy: “Close, Sesame.”
The garage door closes.
Emily: “Thanks, Sesame!”
In honor of my momma, a Pink Floyd reference. But appropriate!
To wit:
A bumblebee (preparing for Halloween), ...
... a butterfly, ...
... and a zebra.
Also, Emily’s great-grandmother died this week at age 94. The last time Emily visited, the little girl was called “Fifi” by her great-grandma, and since then Emily has often crawled on the floor, barking, and saying that she’s Fifi. So there’s another animal.
Here they were over the Thanksgiving holiday in 2008:

Building a tower:
Sliding with Momma:
Bein’ cute:
With her haul from the Labor Day parade:
Earlier this month, Emily saw her Great Aunt Ruth and cousins Kathy and Karen in Cincinnati:
We (including me!) were visiting Uncles Bruce and Doug:
Emily rode in her first boat:
And of course she visited with Grandma Janet:
Back home, she painted a picture:
And she wore this getup:
... merits half a cupcake:
Emily got some mermaid legs last weekend:
She reads one of her favorite books:
She talks to her grandmas and grandpa:
I think Grandma Janet displeased her:
She also visited her Springfield grandparents earlier this month:
And she was generally herself:
Since you last heard from us, we (and by we, I mostly mean everybody except me) ...
... went to the theater for Go, Dog. Go!, ...
... saw Toy Story 3 at the drive-in, ...
... pretended to be a dog, ...
... visited with Grandma Janet, ...
... played at our new park in Rock Island, ...
... and were generally cute:
Well, Daddy wasn’t cute. In fact, he was so displeased with Go, Dog. Go! that he now looks like this permanently:
Being named dog of the month made me complacent and lazy. In this period of supreme torpor, it escaped me that Emily became the president of the United States:
I’m informed that the above picture was taken at the Magic House in St. Louis rather than the Oval Office. Whatever.
More from the Gateway City:
Although I can’t vouch for this, my parents tell me this was the view from the hotel-room balcony:
Some images from back home:
And a mightily abused apple:
You’re looking at the April dog of the month at my day-care provider:
I’ve been too busy beaming (as you can see) to post anything here.
In other news, Grandma Janet visited:
Grandma gave her a book that reads itself:
Emily got her nails painted:
She sang to her Mama’s doll while sitting her Daddy’s rocking chair:
And whatever this is:
Although her pronunciation is generally pretty good, that’s what she calls this:
Emily finally got to bite the ears off her chocolate Easter bunny:
Otherwise, there’s mostly been silliness:
Some prettiness:
And let no one say that her parents have been neglecting her spiritual instruction:
(Please disregard that our families include no Lutherans. And that this book is actually satirical.)
Mommy, Daddy, and Emily went to the park on Easter, and they saw this giant turtle:
Oh. Never mind:
Yesterday there was Easter-egg coloring:
This morning there was Easter-egg hunting:
In between, there was quite a bit of yakking by little girls, which means no Easter candy today.
But vomiting won’t keep Emily from trying out her new tricycle:
Freeze-dried blueberries make for messy hands, faces, and teeth:
In other news, our April Fool’s joke was a day in the mid-80s:
And some March leftovers:
Everybody likes Emily better than they like me. They keep sending her presents.
Like this toy box from Aunt Bailey and Aunt Jane, and the new merchild Marina from Uncle Christian, Aunt Lindsay, and cousin Liliana:


That girl’s birthday is lasting longer than Hanukkah.
The only thing that’s different is a little more than two years:


This week we donated her original car seat so that some other little kid can use it.
For the reverse flop, it is imperative that one engages in some sort of misdirection.
Miss Emily chooses the old “What is this?” ruse:
With the proper tools, you too can be a champion flopper:
Just don’t mess with the flopper’s bean-bag-chair placement!
If flopping doesn’t pan out as a career, Emily might turn to modeling casual wear:


Or she might just look out the window:

The little girl in her red dress (cue the Sara Goldfarb reference) for Valentine’s Day:

Monkeys.
And the moon this evening:

For her second birthday, Emily got cards and presents, including her own little baby Stella:


She went to the Family Museum:



A few days later, Emily had a birthday cake:

She was a tad apprehensive:

She ate it anyway:

Emily even makes sure that Stella has story time:

Grandma took this picture of a picture being taken. Luckily, the other camera is mostly blocking out ugly Daddy:

Emily’s last full day in Florida:


GRRRRR! My Mommy and Daddy left me in the cold, but they took Emily to Florida again this year.
They’re still there, but they sent me some pictures to make me jealous and mad:

(Photo above by Grandma.)

At least it was foggy one day:
The famous Mr. Bones beer coffin:

Apparently, Emily thinks it’s spring break:

... and this is what you get:




No one read to me or played piano with me:


Hmph!
It was recently Christmas. Emily wore a hat:

She also left cookies for Santa:

Grandma gave her Daddy’s old rocking chair:

(Grandma’s kinda cheap that way! She didn’t even bring me a present!)
Grandma also read Emily many, many stories:

And there was snuggling:

We wish everybody a fantastic Christmas:

Emily is finally old enough to participate in the family holiday tradition of fondling a rubber chicken in its bikini area:

She has, quite suddenly, mastered her name puzzle:

My parents and Emily went to Kentucky for the holiday — I think they were visiting an old Scientologist colony — and they had Thanksgiving dinner at a Tex-Mex place:

It makes no sense to me, either. They sent me off to the detention farm. Otherwise, I might have a better report.
Like most young uns, my sister has perfected the flopping fit:

We went pumpkin shopping yesterday:


It was considerably less expensive than car shopping.
We disposed of the big white monster and replaced it with a smaller monster of indeterminate blue, gray, or blue-gray color:

Daddy tried to include me in the trade-in. Hmph!

Little girl, that car’s going to be yours in a short 14 years and a few months!
Last month, grandmas and grandpa all visited.
Emily went to a Riverfront Pops concert:

And then Grammerly and Gramperly came:


They dressed me up at day care:

I think Emily is preparing to spit out her milk the way lady beetles spit out that stinky stuff when you squish them or eat them:

I think you can figure out which is which:



Momma bought Emily a tent castle. Here she is looking out the “window”:

Sometimes I like to be in the castle. Emily kicks me out.
My uncles Doug and Bruce visited this past weekend. My cousin Liza, too:

Uncle Doug read Emily a story:

I am certain this is not an approved use of this device:

What Emily doesn’t know is that the alligator predates her by many, many years:

Emily also decided that she wanted to take me for a walk:

Daddy demanded that I be clear that this is the kid of the creature(s) and not of the doctor.

Sometimes we wish Frankenstein would deanimate her.
You served your Momma well, and I yakked in you, but now it’s time to say goodbye:

Plus, Emily has found a new mode of transit:

That most certainly doesn’t look fun to me:

Emily busted out her red wagon recently:

Here, I’m patiently waiting for a waffle. I definitely did not steal any waffle bits from my sister:

Emily’s day-care provider took this lovely photo:

What’s around that corner?

Emily is considering several vocational options.
Lunch lady:
And ... errrr ... mmmm ... stripper?
In the eyes of her parents, she has ceased to look like a baby:

I have no idea what’s going on here:

And a Pulp Fiction reference for all you cool cats and dogs:
Check out the big bald on Dad!

As for me, I hate the water.
There might be somebody in the world interested in this:
Emily is strange:



Sometimes she’s not:

At day care, Emily was introduced to finger-painting:



Don’t ask me why she’s naked. Artists are odd.
Florida was Emily’s seventh state. It has some beaches:


Babies who are not very stable sometimes get their faces stuck in said beaches:

Emily celebrated her first birthday for the second time:

It gave her a bellyache.
Emily spent lots of time with Grandma:

She also spent a lot of time on the beach:

It made her tired:

But she woke up for sunset:

I don’t know who those big people are. Perhaps they rented Emily:


... and headed to Florida.

One I forgot to include earlier:

Emily turned one year old today.
She got some cards:

And some presents:

And a birthday cake made by grandpa:



She liked her cake:

With me:

And on a blue exercise ball:



Santa butt!
As you might expect, Emily had more fun with wrappings and ribbons at Christmas than with actual presents:

Emily met a new friend the day after Christmas, her Great Aunt Ruth:

She also saw some familiar faces the first weekend of the new year:


She re-enacted a scene from some horror movie:
... surveyed her kingdom:

... and took part in some photography experiments involving cardboard tubes:

Whew! Emily was tired!

You can’t convince me that this girl isn’t nuts:

Even I don’t look that crazy when I’m excited.
Emily and I wish you a very lovely holiday.


Emily hopes that you get better presents than those promised to her: wrapping paper, empty boxes, and ribbons.
... in which that mixed-martial-arts fighter broke his leg.
We think something similar might have happened with Emily:

Quick healer, that girl.
My sister was much better Friday than earlier in the week.
She got a present in the mail:

There was a Santa hat included. Grandma says that little Emily is showing some “attitude” in this picture:

And if you wanna buy Emily something, she’s a technologically advanced baby, with her own Amazon.com wish list. It’s surely only a matter of days before she’s Twitter-ing.
My sister has been sick:


Emily had some turkey for Thanksgiving, although it came from a jar:

Three generations of the human women of Momma’s side of the family:

Emily and her great grandmother:

My Thanksgiving was spent hunting squirrels:

Those patterns are not a good match:

I most certainly approve:
Can’t you see my paws gloating in the background?
... and not a drop to drink?

Emily likes to eat the sun ...

... and magazines.

She’s also quite the model.

Some people have complained that I don’t even show up on my Web site anymore.


Happy, Auntie Desiree?
I’d like to complain that you haven’t sent me any damned dog treats.
Emily’s Halloween costume was very ambiguous.
She could be the happy pea-pod person:

Or the scary pea-pod person:

Or the baby pea-pod person:

Emily went to a Halloween party as a pumpkin. How original:

But the magic of night vision gives it an ambiguity and subtlety reminiscent of Jesus on a taco shell:

(That’s my obedience-school education talking.)
Grandma and Grandpa came to visit, too:


... A CRAZY, DIABOLICAL, FOOD-ON-THE-FACE BABY!!!


Too bad it’s been pushing 80 degrees ... .
Who dresses this girl?

Sometimes Emily makes for a tired Daddy:

Grandma came to see us:

She never visited this often when I showed up.

Emily might be the Redskins’ lucky charm:

But she thinks football is boring:

The girl now has six teeth:

Emily flew to Georgia on Thursday, and boy are her arms tired!

(That one never gets old.)
She played with her cousin:

And went to see the Atlantic:

Emily loves the ocean:





It’s almost like she was born in the water:

Here’s a picture of Emily and Momma. Shocking, I know.

Tomorrow, Emily will take her first plane flight, to Georgia. It will be her sixth state, after Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, and Wisconsin.
Momma and Daddy are sure this will soon become annoying, but for now, they can’t stop laughing:
She looks like she’s ready for a party:

All in one place:

And Abima wants you to know that he is Daddy’s favorite Ugly Doll, which is why he sneaked in to the right side of the picture. Babo is displeased.
... sitting up:

... standing up:


... BEER!

(Emily doesn’t really like beer. Rather, Emily doesn’t know if she’d like beer, because she’s never had any. But she looks interested in it!)
I do! I do!

The weekend started at home:

But then we all went down to Springfield to see Momma’s family.
Grandpa:

Grandma:

Great Uncle Ron:

And Great Grandma:

There was some swimming:

And sleeping by dogs:

... here are some pictures of Emily:


Emily now has two teeth:

Sometimes she even shows them off:

We drove to Ohio to see Grandma:

There was a party for Emily to which I was rudely not invited. My Uncle Doug was there:

Emily read/ate one of her books:

More fun with Grandma:

Rose Marie hosted the party, and then put Emily to sleep:

Then we drove home. We were very tired:

Emily is riding on Daddy’s shoulders and grabbing his hair:

She and I also played with Goose:

Whatever:

Oh no! Emily is disappearing into the ether:

She turned out not be a ghost, though. Whew. And then she ate some food.

A video:
Emily’s first fireworks, photographed either badly or artfully — your call:



These mostly speak for themselves:






My cousin Liza visited this weekend:

Not much else new.
Oh yes. My uncles Doug and Bruce came to visit:

Uncle Doug has many skills. Now we know from where Emily gets it:

Emily experienced her first farm implements:

She also surveyed Mississippi River flooding from on high:

And she rejected her first solid food:

Because I’m petrified of water, I’m not crazy about our second major flood of the spring. Perhaps you’ve heard about it?

Emily seems okay with it, though:


Today is Flag Day, so Emily wore appropriate footwear:

She has also discovered her feet:

Gotcha!

All four of us went to the drive-in movie theater to see Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. We did not stay for Drillbit Taylor.

I paid more attention to some cats than the movie.
Emily is nearly sitting up on her own. Here she’s being helped by the recliner:



I’m glad I’m a dog. English is very confusing.


We’ve devolved into Madonna references. Sigh.
This was a few days ago:

Emily now more closely resembles a burn victim:

Emily is claiming credit for Jon Lester’s no-hitter tonight because she broke out the magic pacifier that had been hiding in her drawer:

And no, it was not hiding in her drawers.
Emily went to the pool on Saturday:

She also played with me on Sunday, but I didn’t want to share Purple Dog:

Here are some feet, with a baby attached:

This was just one of those odd looks Daddy caught with the camera:

And the rare Tummy Time that didn’t result in immediate screaming:

For Mother’s Day, Emily started in dinosaurs ...

... then put on a dress, with a sweater that her great grandmother made for Momma.

There are some trees back there.

Maybe it’s just me, but it looks like Emily has a halo in this picture and a monkey crown:

And yes, I see the face of Jesus in my dog food.
Anyway ... :

Fewer words, more pictures:



Look at that gut:

I do not understand the point of socks that look like shoes:


With the great Mississippi River flood of 2008 happening, I thought maybe Momma and Daddy were going to send Emily on an aquatic journey:

Alas, they merely took pictures:

Emily in front of Momma’s favorite bridge:

And biting her lip:

Everyone knows that babies are expensive. That’s particularly true when you must get a new car so grandparents don’t complain about the little red convertible death trap. So Emily has a new car:

To help pay for it, she and Momma did some yardwork:

And Emily dressed up as Little Red Riding Hood:

Actually, it was pretty okay:

Emily also got to play on a blue ball:

And she was very happy that her leprosy has abated:

After her bath, Emily was a duck:

That made her hungry:

Emily is learning to blow bubbles:

She is also learning to spark unlikely comeback victories with a simple change in wardrobe:

Emily has a wedge on which she sleeps. She has been known to slide down it, resulting in this not-recommended position:

Waffle head:

But some Momma love makes up for many indignities:

There is little to say here, except that Emily is obviously easily amused:



And apropos of nothing, you can now e-mail me or Emily. See the contact feature in the sidebar.
It was another crazy weekend.
First, Emily put her hand on Momma’s head:

Then Emily’s legs disappeared:

Then Emily’s Uncle Christian, Aunt Lindsay, and cousin Liliana came to visit:

And the little girl smiled:

One last thing: I keep hearing these secondhand complaints about Grinky.com! content, particularly as it relates to boogers. Y’all are just begging for the poopy diaper of the week, aren’t you?
Here I am with my 10-week-old sister Emily:


I’m prettier.
My daddy says that he has taken pictures of Emily in each of her 70 days of life. But I don’t think that excuses him for turning off most of the house lights, turning on the camping lantern, and seeing how that looks for variety:

I’m just kiddin’. This one’s called “Playtime”:


Today, Emily took the pacifier out of her mouth and held it for several minutes in her hand. She only fussed after she dropped it:


It has been suggested that after the recent display of grossicity, Grinky.com! should start a feature called “Poopy Diaper of the Week.” I don’t know about that — it’s under consideration — but here’s some formula drool:

Yum!

In close-up:

And a family portrait:

So I come home, and what do I find but Emily! Trying to charm my Grammatius!

But I was prepared for this horror, because I am always watching. And nobody’s painted a picture of you, little girl!
I had hoped that her visit to Springfield would find somebody willing to take her off our hands, but she was rejected by (from left) her grandmother, her great grandmother, her great uncle, and her other grandmother, among others:

So I guess we’re stuck with her for a little while longer.

My sister can escape from the most snuggiest swaddling:

Because of this, my parents are sending Emily to military school for infants to break her of her failure to conform to the expected outcomes of baby restraints.
So I’m going to the spa for a few days while Momma and Daddy transport her.
Grinky.com! will therefore be quiet for a few days, and then we’ll return to Ginger-only programming!
Emily will be two months old tomorrow. Here she is with her Momma:

She’s my Momma, too, you know.
She was my Momma first.
When it was decided that the four of us would go for a walk, Emily put on her sunglasses. They were too big:

She has a seriously tricked-out stroller:

After our walk, she chilled in her car seat for a while:

Because it is very expensive to maintain this Web site, I have decided to subtly introduce product placement in photographs of Emily and the rest of the family:

We couldn’t have made it through these first eight weeks without the amazing Itzbeen Baby Care Timer, which compensates for the fact that my parents can’t read a clock or remember anything.
My little sister changes her clothes several times each day.
Here are two of the things she wore today:


I do not understand why. When I yak, nobody puts a new outfit on me.
It ain’t all sunshine and smiles with baby Emily:


I surprised my sister with some kisses:

This was the peaceful scene I interrupted:

Emily is not actually playing a game.
It only looks that way because Daddy wants her to appear more advanced than she is:

Regarding yesterday’s Red Sox assertion: Way to blow it, little girl!
You know your Daddy will dump you if your record drops below .500 for long.

And no, I’m not trying to make her run away.
Emily is apparently the Red Sox’s good-luck charm, as they’ve yet to lose (a game that counts) in her lifetime.

Alas, her parents are certain she’ll be a Yankees fan. (And a Cowboys fan, too.)
I think it wrong to force team allegiances on children, but my parents obviously feel different. The Red Sox open the season in Tokyo just after 5 a.m. where I live, and I hope Emily wakes Daddy up to watch:

Emily and Momma:

Daddy’s worst fears have come true. Emily has her Momma’s webbed feet:

First there was one bunny:

Then they started multiplying (and turning into lambs, and bears dressed as bunnies) and attacked Emily:

I came and ate them all, and now Emily is safe. (And smiling!) Phew!

The end.
Emily and Momma and Daddy think bunnies are cute, and portents of the risen Christ or somesuch:

I think they’re tasty.
Not really, but she ate some. This girl takes after her sister’s food-spurning ways:

Not that anybody looks good in extreme closeup:

Emily has been in day care for two days, and already she’s modeling for her provider:

Before she peed on it, she wore a more complex outfit than had previously been attempted:

A St. Paddy’s Day leftover:

Emily’s definitely a WASP, but I don’t know if she’s exactly Irish. Still, she represents:

Get your damned foot out of my mouth:

My sister has many expressions:



She also has dog feet:

Seriously, the underside of the bed is quite comfortable. And I am not stuck:

Here’s what you came for anyway:



I think maybe Momma is warming to Emily:

Let’s play a game. There’s a dog hidden in this picture. Can you find her?

No points for guessing which belongs to whom:

You are getting very sleepy ... :

She has quite the penetrating glance:

Emily is trying to imitate those kids she sees on The Wire:


But she needs to work on the hair for authenticity:

Emily has a bit of a problem with infant acne:

That’s why she’s hiding:

Emily got some flowers today from Canada:

You don’t send me flowers ... anymore.
When you stare at something long enough, you want it:

(That’s the zebra on the right.)
She might end up a boxer:

Photo by P.

I’m “G,” by the way.
She’s very interested in her mobile:

... and screaming while being swung. Happy birthday!

The orangutan No No is Emily’s hair stylist:

Momma was sleepy today:

The doctor said Emily is 8 pounds, 10 ounces, which puts her in the 25th percentile for her age.
Momma and Daddy expected to be surprised by many things about Emily, but they surely didn’t think she’d be such an underachiever.

Emily is almost four weeks old!

It seemed like a normal day ...

... until it was time for Emily’s first bath:
Despite what the video suggests, she survived:


My sister Emily is filling out a little bit:

She’s also more alert:

My sister is a cow:

I’ll be nicer this time. Here she is with Momma:

Tummy Time with me:

Daddy sometimes struggles to find something new to photograph:

I went to the doggy doctor today, and Emily wore appropriately supportive “Puppy Pal” attire:

We cannot explain her predilection toward the thrust fist:

Emily seems to be making eyes at her Momma:

She also has a bouncy seat that buzzes and makes music:

Emily is almost three weeks old:

A new video:


I want them back!
A rare moment of quiet:

Mostly there’s fussin’ of some sort, and a dog can’t get much sleep.
This picture’s about me, isn’t it?

Fine:

My sister Emily is now a little too big for preemie clothes (Emily’s note: I am not a preemie!) and a little too small for newborn clothes, such as this outfit:

Incidentally, I heartily approve of this ensemble:

Emily has a new belly button:

It’s addition by subtraction. Here’s the stump that fell off.

Gross. I wanted to eat it.
But they didn’t let me.
They always liked her better.

... over these six pounds, nine ounces of terror:

... but Girl Power is for real:

Crusty eyes and all:

I think we might end up friends:

Don’t her feet look better?

My Grammatius bought flowers for my Momma for having Emily:

Daddy said Emily looks especially pretty today:

Maybe a little less so when the camera’s too close:


Me, Momma, and Emily:

My Grammerly and Gramperly showed up today:

And Emily had a party in her honor. There are some presents in the background:

She has a widow’s peak:

And a chocolate bar makes her look even tinier than she is:

And then quickly calmed by her mother:
Whoever thinks that newborns don’t register excitement has never met my little sister Emily:

They say that black stump will become a belly button:

Until then, it looks better when you zoom out:

My money’s on an outie.
Our first full day at home was pretty quiet. I’m acting quite cowed by my little sister:

Baby pictures are boring. Here’s a monkey:

Both Emily and I came home today. I’m not sure what to make of this thing.

But at least she’s in a cage.

Babies aren’t always perfect, even to their parents. For example:


Then again:

I still haven’t seen my little sister, but here are some pictures.
Day 1:


Day 2:

I’m spending a few days with my Aunt Kim, but Daddy has filed the following report:
Pamela gave birth to Emily Alexandra at 12:25 a.m. on Friday, February 1, 2008, at Trinity at Terrace Park in Bettendorf, Iowa. Both came through the ordeal alive and well.

Emily weighed 5 pounds, 5.2 ounces, was 18 inches long, and had 10 fingers, 10 toes, and everything else she was supposed to. (One official footprint suggests that she only has three toes on one foot; don’t believe it. And reports of a tail were grossly overstated.)
She was delivered by cesarean section after two days of labor activities, which made apparent that this little girl was not going to come out the natural way. Who knows from where she got those stubbornness genes? I got to do the ceremonial ribbon-cutting, and they said I didn’t screw it up too badly.
We expect Pamela and Emily to be released from the hospital no later than Monday, February 4. Send congratulations to Pamela at pamelak42@hotmail.com. She’d love to hear from you.
Thank you for all your kind thoughts and your generosity over the past nine months. We are grateful and elated that Emily arrived safe and healthy, and we look forward to sharing her with you, especially those of you willing to babysit.




Daddy put me in a new cage today.

I think he was testing out the nursery equipment to make sure it didn’t collapse.
Sorry I haven’t updated in so long. I realized I didn’t have opposable thumbs or fingers and therefore can’t type. But I’m over my little crisis of self-esteem, and I’m back with a picture of Peanut from November 29.

Maybe I’ll have another picture next week.
My sibling (most likely a sister) a little more than four months before it comes out.
There’s a spine!

There’s a face!

I forgot to mention that Peanut is s’posed to arrive on January 28.
Isn’t that more than three years from now?
Looks like I’ve got a brother or sister brewin’. They call it “Peanut.”

I wanted a dog, but I guess this will have to do.
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