Thank God toddlers don't drink coffee.

We did it! We did it! It's really, really true!

We did it! We did it! We know just what to do!

See, we were tired of Oliver running us ragged.

So we changed it up a bit.

We took him out, ran him around, jumped on top everything, hid below everything, laughed as hard as we could, fell over two or three or fifty times, and eventually...we pooped him out.

Don't mess with us kid, we've had a full pot of expresso.

Have a great weekend!

Have picture, will travel...

I accidentally let my Passport expire last May.

It was the worst timing because I was 5 months pregnant with Oliver when I realized. The last thing I wanted was to have a fat-faced pregnant picture prove my citizenship for the next ten years, so I waited. I waited 8 months. My face only got more beautiful fatter the last 4 months of pregnancy and I had to wait at least 4 months to once again see my chin and cheekbones.

Now that the bloat finally disappeared and more importantly now that we're going to St. Thomas next Monday, I really needed to renew my passport. I blew out my hair, put on some lip gloss and dressed in a solid colored, v-neck top. Suddenly I was yearbook picture ready. On my way there I called my mom surprise, surprise. She asked if I was getting Oliver a passport picture too. Well hello! I completely forgot about Oliver! Luckily, he's a natural beauty and wouldn't need a blow-out or gloss to look fabulous. I was also lucky that he was in a smiley mood.

At the picture place, I went first. After eight a few tries I had eeeeked out a passable picture. Then it was Oliver's turn. I don't know what happened, but as soon as he took one look at the photographer his smiley-ness went right out the window. He was a sketchy man and babies can definitely sense sketchy people. Anyway, we got the picture. Not his best by a long shot, but it will have to do. I figure it'll provide good entertainment when I show it to his fiance when he's older and we can all get a good laugh:

Make my Tuesday Terrific! Subscribe and leave me a comment!

Gotta love mornings...

Sunday, we woke up to find Oliver perpendicular in his crib.
Apparently this is his new favorite position.

We think he's practicing "standing."

On Monday, we woke up to find Oliver cracking up.

What is it that's making him laugh so darn hysterically?
We have not a clue.

On Tuesday morning he was sleeping like this.
How is this comfortable?


Make my Wednesday wonderful!
Leave me a comment!

I love me some butterflies...

Indulge me.

I couldn't help but videotape Ollie's morning routine with his beloved butterfly.

Sunday stroll around the neighborhood...

Yesterday, Brett went for a run.

He was gone for a long time... longer than his usual jaunt. Just when I was starting to worry about him he burst through the doors insisting I've GOT to go down to Greenwich Street. He said everybody in the neighborhood is there, the police, the fire department and every news van in the city. So, I threw Oliver into the stroller and walked the few short blocks. And there it was.

The US Airways Jet that landed in the Hudson was sitting there. Just 50 yards from me on the lawn where my husband and I relax in the summer and play Scrabble. The engine is ripped off and while it's very obvious the plane is not in the best shape it is definitely and impressively intact. It is a shocking sight. Especially when it's sitting in your neighborhood's backyard.

I hope Sully gets himself front row ticket to tomorrow's inauguration. If anyone deserves it more than Bono, it's definitely Pilot Sully.

Here's a picture of Oliver with the "Miracle Plane" behind him.

Oliver Exploring Different Personalities...

Heyyy Oliver!

You know you're in trouble when...

...this is the only way he will stop crying.

Old Man Gas

My Oliver is 3 months old and he has old man gas. The sound is unmistakable and the smell is shockingly rancid.

Recently, we traveled to Chicago to visit my parents and give them time with their new grandson. As the visit came to an end, it became clear that my husband's work was going to rev up considerably so I decided to stay an extra week. Unfortunately that meant I would be traveling home to NYC by myself.

The night before I headed to the airport I had everything organized perfectly. I knew where every single toy, bottle, diaper and burp cloth was so I could grab it within seconds.

I gate checked the stroller and the car seat, boarded holding my babe in my arms and within seconds the plane's engine lured Oliver into a deep sleep. This was going to be a piece of cake.

An hour and a half into the flight however, while still in a peaceful adorable slumber, Oliver ripped some gas. It was loud. And the person sitting next to me definitely heard. He tried to ignore it. Oliver then let two more fly and the person in the aisle seat heard it too. They both looked at me thinking I was the one who had assaulted their air space. It was awful. Sour, foul, disgusting. And yet, Oliver, still lay sleeping and snoring away.

When the people in my row started looking at me I pointed to Oliver saying he was the one who ripped the gas and how isn't it funny such a bad smell can be produced by someone so teeny tiny? They thought it was awful that I blamed the smell on my innocent, angelic sleeping baby.

But it was him.

I hope when I'm 100 years old and I unknowingly toot, Oliver graciously takes the blame for me as I did for him.