Dada is a state of mind

I have been practicing my sounds recently, and my two favorites are clicking and my dental phonemes. Often when dad walks into the room, I say "dadadadadada." I also say that on walks with mom and sometimes to the dog, or the middle of the nanny feeding me. But dad is pretty sure I know exactly what I'm talking about. He has even written to the Academie Francaise for official confirmation (he didn't know of anyone else who claimed authority over language). Little does he know that I'm actually an adherent of Dadaism.

I got carded

My mom put me on the YMCA membership this week. (I think YMCA stands for Your Money Can't Afford -- have you seen the dues recently?) Anyway, they gave me this cool ID card:


No, the brick background does not mean that I'm appearing in a comedy club this week. You see the blue curtain up above my head? That was supposed to be the background. And pay no attention to the disembodied hand -- a strange growth that the doctors say will disappear in time.

Anyway, I have made certain modifications to the card using Photoshop:

Can you see the difference? Practically undetectable, if I do say so myself. And now I can get into all the fabulous dance clubs from which I've so far been excluded.

--Maddie

Continued disappointment

Is it any wonder I'm a little fussy sometimes? First my Mini Cooper was replaced with a mini scooter (see below), and now this: Kids elsewhere in the world get to bring baby elephants into the house!


But do I get to bring baby elephants into the house? Nooooooo...

--Maddie

Smells like school spirit

Fall is in the air, with Hotlanta temps dipping into the frigid forties. Parents who've never lived north of the Mason-Dixon are bundling their children in heavy fleece for midday walks, and I am already getting nostalgic for my father's not-yet-alma-mater. (Not yet his mother? Does that mean dad is still embryonic? I hear that the fetal position is a common one for dissertating grad students, but he's the one trying to give birth to this thing, so I'm confused...)


As for me, I'm enjoying the fall weather...


If it looks like I'm not enjoying myself in this next photo... well, that look on my face is disappointment. I clearly asked Mom for a Mini Cooper for my six-month birthday, and this is what I got:

Finally, I had a strange experience in Los Bravos yesterday. I was smiling at an old couple at the next table -- I always smile at strangers. But then the man came over and gave me a dollar -- "put it in her baby book," he said. What would Miss Manners say? Is this a quaint Georgia custom that we're unaccustomed to? Or are the magaritas at Los Bravos just a little too strong?

--Maddie

Stand and deliver

I think this video pretty much speaks for itself. But just in case it doesn't, let me just add that standing up is a major exertion for a tiny person. That should explain what happens at the end...