Baptism redux; paparazzo busted!

When a paparazzo contacted my friend who works for Entertainment Tonight trying to sell footage of my baptism, she knew just what to do. She called the FBI and they swooped in to pick up the bad guy and the tape.

The upside is, now we have better footage:

They named the Panda after me

Here's the story.

Sometimes you have to face the monster

Just call me St. George...

A word about words

Dear reader,

You may have wondered at some point in your perusal of this blog how I keep my creative juices flowing. Well, as T.S. Eliot said, "Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal." I will leave it to you to decide whether or not I am mature, but the point is that however great a writer you are, you stand under the anxiety of influence. As the heirs of Saussure have observed, texts are tissues woven from other texts.

Am I still being too oblique? Fine: I can read. And I have proof:

Of course, I felt pretty busted when Dad caught me reading this book on parenting; it was so useful to be able to stay a step ahead of them; like when I read in Ferber that you could let your kids cry for up to 30 minutes, I knew I only had to go for 31 and the Mom and Dad would appear at my cribside....


As you may be able to tell if you click on that photo for the larger version, I am such a good reader that I sometimes get bored of reading right side up and read books upside down. It's just a thing I do.

--The Madster

One small step for a baby...

...one giant step closer to getting my hands on better food.


I took my first steps today. The impact of the event was a little bit lost when, shortly thereafter, a stomach bug reduced me to projectile vomiting and I had to go to bed. But then I took a couple more later for good measure.

In the above photo, I could have had Dad Photoshop my hand off the knob, but no, I'm not walking in that one. But I can.

I know, I know -- it's a video world. Stay tuned, YouTube generation; film is forthcoming.

--Maddie

The strangest bath ever

The other day I had the strangest experience -- they gave me a bath in church! My normal bathtime is 6 p.m., and no one but Mom and Dad bathes me, but that day a man named Gary Charles held me up in front of everybody, and they had a little tub right there in Central Presbyterian!

Those church people seem nice enough, so don't tell them I said this, but it wasn't a very good bath. They didn't let me have my foam toys, or jump in the pool, or anything. They didn't even use shampoo!

Here's what it was like (You'll have to tilt your head, sorry):



The one fabulous part of the whole thing was that Gandalf carried me around the whole church afterward, and I got to smile at everyone and talk to them and show off my pretty pink dress (24-month size!).


Dad says the bath means I'm a child of the covenant. That sounds OK, I guess. I am having my lawyers draw up a covenant document with stipulations about minimum pureed-fruit feedings, reasonable napping expectations, etc.

... What?

--Maddie

Giving thanks for mashed potatoes

Thanksgiving is officially my favorite holiday so far. Gram and Gandalf brought TONS of food all the way from North Carolina, and I got to eat practically all of it! Can you say "tryptophan coma"? I can't, but then, I'm only nine months old.


The weekend was beautiful and warm, and full of the usual fun and games...


...and I had to make a stand in my castle against a terrifying dragon with monstrous teeth.


There was one more notable event that weekend, which I will belatedly address in my next post.

--Maddie