We’re 7 months as of last Saturday. And yes, I’m going to be that uber annoying mother that uses the pronoun “we” when referring to my little man.

As in:

We’re finally getting teeth.

We like carrots.

We’re having trouble pooping.

That last one makes me slightly regret the “we” thing now.

Anyway. Here we are.



Oh my gawd, you guys…I never thought I’d be the mother who shoves pictures of my wee little mister down every stranger’s throat.  But here I am again, uploading cute photos to my blog.  Be thankful you aren’t my friend on Facebook ‘cuz I be all up in yer newsfeed, bitches!  Check out mah baybee!  Lookit him sleepin, yo!

I am using this blog as my own personal rolodex of wallet photos.  Because I’ve probably been de-friended in large quantities on Facebook lately.

Here’s the little bean during a photo shoot.  Why is he dressed like an elf in the middle of November, you ask?

Because honey badger don’t care.

No, really.  Because my parents would like to send out a Christmas card this year with his sweet little mug on it and asked that I dress him in Christmas garb.  So what do I do, but dress that little tater tot in every single damn Christmas item we own.  I wanted to make sure people got the point.  You know.  That it’s Christmas and all.  I think it reads well.

Before I subject you to the Spirit of Christmas explosion of red and green and elf booties and Santa hats, I should also tell you that Fox spits up a lot.

What does that have to do with this photo shoot?

Well, wouldn’t you know, the minute we dressed him, he puked all over himself.  And we’re not talking a dainty little spit up.  That little sucker horfed up his entire meal.  Multiple times.  I shit you not.

Because dressing him is like trying to baptize a cat, we weren’t about to take another 15 minutes trying to straighten out his little chicken wing arm to get it through another shirt, all while he’s screaming his head off and quivering that bottom lip.  I just couldn’t do it, ya’ll.  The bottom lip is my Kryptonite.  So on we went with the Christmas photo shoot.  Puke or no puke.

(We are lucky my husband is a graphic designer because puke is surprisingly easy to Photoshop out.  As you’ll see in some of the pictures below).

Merry Christmas from our little grinch, who wants everyone to know he was NOT on board with this whole photo shoot thing.  And the elf hat.  Was not on board with that either.

I’m so ready for all these damn holidays to be over so you freaks can stop finding reasons to dress me up.

Behold the power of Photoshop!  Erasing all evidence of puke, both big and small.

I think I made the “Nice” list this year.  At least, I’m cute enough to have any offences overlooked, anyway.

Wait.  Another photo shoot?  I will pay you both back one day in the form of a wild teenager.

I’m not kidding.  You guys are seriously lame.

Hmm…that’s an interesting prop.  I will now ignore you for 4 minutes while I contemplate this.

I am no longer as interested in this prop and will now proceed to be pissed at it.

Fine.  One blue steel shot.  Now dress me in something normal and put me in my swing with the birds that fly around so I can tell all my friends how uncool my parents are. 

So get this.

I come to post Fox’s 2 month photos and realize what a terrible blogger I have been when I noticed the last post I made was his 1 month photo.

Bad blogger, blah blah blah, fill in random excuses here.

Listen.  I have a small child.  A wee, tiny human that on paper would seem fairly easy – eat, sleep, poo.  But in reality, those three things happen quite often throughout the day, so as I find myself finishing one, we’re on to the next.  I’m lucky if I finally sit down to breakfast at 1 in the afternoon.

Here’s Fox’s 2 month photos.  I couldn’t resist the Halloween theme, seeing as though he’ll be 2 months tomorrow, the 30th.  Just too close to the holiday to resist.

We had a ton of outtakes.

A ton.

Who would have thought a hungry, floppy-necked 2-month-old in an itchy wool cap, propped next to an insanely cold pumpkin would be such a crabass about the whole thing?  But ours was.

Listen kid – if you’re serious about this 5 year plan that involves becoming the Gerber baby and making your parents millions, you’ll have to buck up just a little.  That IS your 5 year plan, yeah Fox?

Anyway, here’s a peek at some of the outtakes along with Baby Fox’s very own commentary.

(And another reason for me to post some delicious pictures of those baby thigh rolls.  Are any of you ever worried you will actually eat your own child because he’s so cute?  I am.)

Baby Fox says, “Get me a chair for some back support, you jerky, first-time parents!”

Baby Fox says, “Don’t get all crazy and excited about that smile.  That was just some serious gas.”

Mom says “Fox is right.  This photography sesh was peppered with lots of gas leaks.”

Baby Fox says, “Way to push the photography limits by switching which side the pumpkin is on, Mom and Dad.  In exchange for your genius, I will now act disinterested in the pumpkin from this point forward.”

Baby Fox says, “A baby can only take so much paparazzi.  I get it.  You people need 25 photos of the same pose for the baby album.  But the longer you make me wait, the more I will take out my angry hunger on your boobs later, Mom.  Just so we’re clear.”

 Baby Fox says, “Is this the last picture?  Yeah?  No?  Did you hear what I said about your boobs earlier, Mom?”

This is the look of a baby who has given up.  Fox decided he had no comment on this one.

So there you have it.  I distracted you with some photos to ease the pain of a month without update.  Maternity leave is over for me in a week and a half, and if you think I had little time to update now, I’ll make no promises for the month ahead.  But I will try my darndest.  Because I can’t deny you all juicy baby thighs.  I’ll try not to gobble them up before then.

I had big plans for this blog post, I tell you what…

Since a good portion of you were not able to make it to my shower, I was contemplating committing all the shower gifts to digital photo history.  A.K.A. – I was gonna show you some pretty, pretty pictures, ya’ll!

And because I know it would have been an enriching experience for you to see 6 images detailing different angles of the same spice rack (in all fairness, I would have made them really artsy and photojournalistic, but, I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it…), I can tell how bummed you are that you’re missing out on this photographic journey.

“Why, oh why are we missing out on this, Katie?”  (Yeah, I could hear you just now.  Technology, man…pretty crazy stuff.)

The reason you are not able to partake in my second wind of enthusiasm and high-pitch squeals as I document all my new, shiny loot is because my damn computer broke.  Again.  So, like a twist on what the Soup Nazi says…No photos for you!

I’m working on Tony’s Mac.  But I suppose I shouldn’t even get into how long it took me to find the freakin’ internet button.  Who names the internet Safari?  How about something sensible like Internet Explorer.  You know.  With the word INTERNET in the name.

If you want to get artsy, Apple, take up kitchen product photography.  Leave the program wording to someone else.  Like technical writers.  Hey, there’s a thought.

Also?  Get some icons, damnit.  I may or may not have actually made my way to the internet by waving my mouse around frantically across the desktop.  Eventually something finally popped up.  Don’t ask me to navigate my way back here though.  Lady Luck won’t always be standing nearby.

(At this very moment, the thought crossed my mind to title this blog post “Hip, Hip Hooray for PC’s!” but then I thought better of it when I realized my hunk of junk is sitting on the floor being all pathetic and non-motherboardy on me.  And I will not look like a sucker.  Apparently I WILL look like many other things, though.)

Alas, I am a little bummed that you all can’t see my cookie jars filled to the brim with Nerds and Junior Mints.  You’ll have to imagine it though.  Think of the most beautiful vision you can think of.  I’m talking rainbows and unicorns.  Now picture that on my kitchen counter.  Did you just get tingly inside?  And no, that’s not the glucose coursing through your veins.

Hopefully I’ll find some way to be up and running soon.  You wouldn’t believe how much I rely on the internet.  I realized this last time my computer broke when my dad told me I needed to look up the number to the computer store.  I got really disgruntled and told him I couldn’t because I had no way to access their website.

He mentioned something, something Yellow Pages, but I do not know of this thing you all call Yellow Pages.  Is it some holy grail from my parents’ time?  Did it list the dinosaurs in alphabetical order or by species?

On that note, I should probably shut my trap.  The Karma Gods are starting to look at me disapprovingly.

They must have been sad when those dinosaurs died or something.

Here’s probably the one and only picture where mosquitoes weren’t trying to annihilate our existence on this good earth. 

Aside from the Toyota Camry officiating in the background, I think it turned out pretty well. 

And now, without further ado, I, as a seafoam-colored, reliable, ten-point safety rated Japanese vehicle, pronounce you husband and wife.

The rest of the photos, unfortunately, didn’t fare so well.  We can thank our buzzy insect friends for that.  Tony: A little scritchity, scritch on the calf and I should be all set. 

Katie: Hold it together, partner. Tony: No wait, he’s moving up to my face.  MAH FACE!   

Katie: Do I look pale to you?  Oh right, mosquitoes, sorry. 

Tony: Holy head attack, Batman!  He has reinforcements!  Duck and cover…DUCK AND COVER, EVERYONE! 

Katie: Seriously with this guy over here? Tony: Can’t even talk because he’s losing his shit. 

Katie: I find this amusing.   

Tony: What just happened to me?  I feel weak.  Who are you?  Why am I in a Santa hat? 

Katie: Back up ladies, this fella’s all mine. 

Katie: Wait a sec… 

Tony: Your nonplussed attitude during my recent attack has me feeling a guilty pleasure at this sudden turn of events.   

Katie: No, seriously, something is eating the flesh on my arm.   

Tony: I am feeling anxiety right now.  Please note how I am backing away from you for fear you will fling the mosquito onto my very sensitive face.  I don’t like them near my face!  Are you listening?   

Katie: I would appreciate you loosening your vice grip on my hands so I can swat this thing off. 

Tony: I will stare at your arm to keep track of that bug.  If he goes near my face, I am calling this whole thing off. 

Tony: Are we done?  We’re done, right?  Is it time to be done, yet? 

Katie: Keep smiling, Katie.  You can’t kill him until AFTER the marriage when you can collect the  insurance money.* 

(*And before you start dialing the police, people, please recognize how KIDDING I am.  Besides, the insurance wouldn’t cover that hot, little Aston Martin I’ve been eyeing anyway…) 

Seen enough?  Didn’t think so.  Here’s part two of the Great Mosquito Swarm of August, 2010.  Please pay close attention to Tony’s left temple where the happiest mosquito in all the land drained about 5 minutes worth of nutrients from Tony’s skull. 

 Tony: I feel a weird pricking sensation near my left temple.   

Katie: Thank goodness those mosquitoes are finally leaving me alone.  They must have found a new blood source. 

Tony: Yeah, there’s definitely something on the side of my forehead.  But I’m afraid to move for fear Katie will beat me if I ruin yet another picture. 

Katie: I will seriously beat him if he ruins another picture. 

Tony: Must. Not. Move.  Is it hot out here?  Anybody else feeling a little warm? 

Katie:  Starting to wonder if she remembered to clean the bottom of her feet. 

Tony: Something’s not right.  I feel light-headed. 

Katie: :::Inhale::::::Exhale::: 

And it wouldn’t be fair to post only bad photos of Tony.  So to balance out the universe, I’m leaving you all with this stunning gem: 

Some sage words of advice from the person voted least photogenic in all the land.  I really was.  I’ll show you the trophy sometime.
1.)  Try to keep both eyes open when mugging for the camera.  Most people look more attractive with two eyes open.  Unless, of course, you’re a pirate.

Standing in a crowded bar is always an appropriate time to dream of icecream cones.

 2.) And if you can only keep one open, make it look damn good when you do.

You better believe I'm winking at your bad self

 3.) Don’t try to beat yourself up.  Bad photo skills is as much hereditary as it is a skilled practice.

Why do I all of a sudden have a hankering to listen to Poison?

4.) Avoid cliche picture moves like the butt slap and the “oh look at me stick my cute little tongue out.”  As my Aunt Carol would say – “If I can’t serve as a good example, let me be a horrible warning.” 

Exhibit A:

Oh no. Oh no, she didn't. Oh yes, she did.

Exhibit B:

Practicing for the KISS cover band tryouts.

5.) It’s all about looking natural.

Smile with your eyes.

6.) Like swimming, try to avoid eating 30 minutes before picture taking time.

That was one strong mint.

7.) Dance moves don’t always translate as well on film.

Ice, Ice Baby, Too Cool...Too Cool...

And when all else fails, marry someone as incredibly photogenic as you.


We met with Front Room Photography last Sunday and have since booked them as our wedding photographers.  I could write an entire blog post about how incredible their work is, but instead, I’ll just let you follow their link and check it out for yourselves.  Don’t forget to click on their blog, too.  Ah-mazing.

Tony would invite you to visit their website, too, but I’m still trying to resuscitate him off the floor after he saw what the final bill will be.  Takin’ pretty pictures ain’t cheap, ya’ll!