Sick Mac. Sick Eames.

Well, it seems like we've been inundated with sickness the past few days, even though Josh and I have both remained healthy. Both Eames and my computer got sick. At exactly the same time. Exactly.

My Mac laptop, which is about two years and a half years old now, decided that it was suddenly too tired to get passed the start up screen. It was just done tuckered out. And the Apple store confirmed it when I finally made it over there to beg them to do something to help. Indeed, my hard drive crashed and they were unable to retrieve any of the data on it. This had the potential to be bad (like 'Holy shit, I'm pregnant..' bad--without the cute baby at the end). Luckily, I haven't been that productive as of late, so I only lost a couple of paragraphs of dissertation work. I backed up my computer 3 months ago and have posted all my best pictures on Picasa or the blog. So, it could've been much, much worse. Turns out Apple is replacing the hard drive on this model for free (along with the case which had a small chip), so I got a new hard drive with a new operating system and the very valuable program Time Machine all for a low, low price of some random pictures, videos, and files. And the awesomeness of Time Machine will keep this from happening again. Lovely.

In the meantime, Eames was running a wicked temp, threw up on me, slept away 3 straight days, and clung to me enough to make me think kangaroos are really on to something with that whole pouch thing. It really was one of the saddest things I've ever seen. But, today--the day I picked up my like-new laptop--he woke up without a fever and smiling. He was even up for a game of peek-a-boo.

It's nice to have everyone back to normal...though, I guess that means I'm out of excuses and need to get back to the writing. Or started on the writing. Ahem.

Christmas Razzberries

Merry (Belated) Christmas Everybody!

The Holidays In Pictures

In November, I'd planned on writing an ode to six months. But, then we took a long road trip to Arizona, California and Utah (with a quick trip through Vegas for vegan donuts), the semester and all its ensuing madness came to an end, the holidays and Aspen's visit arrived, and I'm just now wondering where the last two months have gone since Eames recently turned 8 months...

Fact is, he's like a different kid. And by kid, I mean he's hardly a baby any more. He 's not crawling yet, but he puched himself backward around the floor. Honestly, though, he's much more interested in walking and wants to stand and move from place to place on his own two feet. He's eating food, real food, though this still hasn't given me a break from feedings and hasn't helped him sleep through the night. So far, he's had kale, sweet potatoes, tofu, lentils, oatmeal, spinach, pumpkin, coconut milk, coconut milk yogurt, banana, avocado, peas, and beets (and perhaps a few other veggies--I'm beginning to lose track).

Anyway, there's so much to catch up on that I'm not even going to try. I'll let the pictures do the talking instead:

Dressed for the winter

Enjoying the Tucson sun
Eames likes his Vans
My other baby
Aspen, Josh, and Eames in the Glenwood Hot Springs
Eames giving me the hard sell

Look Who's Sittin' Now

So far, the developmental milestones have been kind of underwhelming. I mean, yes, it's cool that he can track things with his eyes, hold his head up, and not root at the slightest provocation, but those aren't exactly the kinds of things that seem important to anyone but the pediatrician. Rolling over had its momentary thrill and I still love watching him reach for anything you happen to put in front of him (which has signalled the end of cooking with him on my hip), but all the biggies (talking, walking, pooping in the right place...) still seem like they are a ways away and Eames doesn't seem in a hurry to do grown-up things any time soon. In fact, he was rolling every which way for a while, but now it appears that rolling over is passe and he happily stays wherever you lay him down.

Anyway, it occurred to me that we should be getting to the point where he's at least trying to sit. He has a 6 month check-up in a few weeks and he needs to stay firmly in the average range (no deviations here). High time we start practicing. So, I set him down on the play mat in front of the toy Aunt Patty got him and guess what? Eames has already mastered that shit:



What I'd forgotten is that Eames doesn't like to approach his new skills slowly. He's an all-or-nothing kind of little guy. When he decided to roll over, he did so by rolling across the living room floor; up to that point, he'd never shown the slightest inclination and then, boom!, look at me rolling toward the front door! Catch me if you can! And, while he's using the toy to stay up in this video, he's already given that up as well.* Clearly, like his mother, he doesn't believe in practice. I fully expect that one of these days, out of the blue, he's just going to look at me and say, "Don't use your rhetoric on me, mother. I'm not interested." I would not be at all surprised.

*I posted the short video, since blogspot wasn't really digging the 5 minute sitting video.

Dial E for Eames

Since he was born, Eames has had a prodigious chin and, if I'm to be honest, cheeks to match; in fact, I periodically do the finger sweep test to make sure he's not packing anything in those cheeks of his--like he's gained the manual dexterity and mobility to sneak a few cat toys into his mouth while I'm not watching. Hell, sometimes it even looks like he might have a whole cat in there (Pasha or Simi clearly, since Nico is obviously too big).

While discussing the possibility that his cheeks might need their own zip code the other day, Josh mentioned that Eames bears an uncanny resemblance to a certain famous director and TV show host. Pat Sajak came to mind for a minute, but he, to my knowledge, has never directed a film and he's far too tan. Josh was, of course, referring to Alfred Hitchcock.

How did I ever not see that Eames is the spitting image of the master of suspense? The gravity-prone jowls. An extra chin. Melancholy eyes. A fuzzy pate. This kid will be sicking birds on an unwitting population in no time or throwing people off of bell towers or spying on our neighbors...

And I will definitely have to rethink leaving him in the doorway jumper while I take a shower.

Commie Leanings

In old country I cosmonaut space sheep.
Zen I dreenk Vodka.