I'm funny how? ...

... Funny like a clown? I amuse you? I make you laugh?


Mom and Dad went to Cirque du Soleil, and all I got is this nose. So now I'm training so I can run away with the circus. Circuses are fabulous.

--Maddie

An update on my public speaking skills

In the beginning there was only "bug" (and of course "aaaaaaa"). Then, gradually, "dug" and "wug" became distinguishable. Now as I peruse my pile of mail, I am able to read whole sentences aloud, such as "aaaaaa wookie wookie bug bug."


--Maddie

In honor of President Ford

I sympathize with our late President Ford, because I hear he used to fall down on camera a lot.



I was hoping not to unveil my walking skills until I had the perfect catwalk strut down, and I've been trying to practice in private moments for weeks now. But tonight dad whipped out the video camera and got me. The papa-razzi strikes again.

--Maddie

This just in...

Quick update: I'm still very cute...


...and you still do not want to mess with me when I'm angry.


Yep, that about covers it.

--Maddie

p.s. A couple of comments on that first photos for the fashionistas out there... Dad calls that my "Vegas Elvis" outfit. Who is this Vegas Elvis? Anyway, you may notice that I am also wearing shoes. Although they are pleasantly pink, so far they feel sort of like manhole covers attached to my feet.

Another new word

I have learned another new word:

"Ma-ma"

For some reason Mom doesn't seem entirely happy about my improving language skills. Note to self: Must look into this.

--Maddie

Using my words

There was a period when mom and dad were slightly concerned that my future communication skills might be confined to shrieks and dinosaur-like gurgles. But I am happy to report that, having almost forgotten all my other languages, I am beginning to use more English.

These are some of my favorite words so far, with illustrations:

"Da-da"


"bug"
(variant: "bud")

"bug"
(variants: "buh-guh," less often "duh-guh")

"Ma-ma"
(variants: "bug," "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!")


"buh-buh"

Yep, that about covers it so far.

--Maddie

Once more into the breach

I was complaining to Dad today that he had not been editing and posting any of my blog entries lately. He just rolled his eyes and said that a lot of things did not get done during Christmas and New Year's. I have no idea what he's talking about; all the important things got done... I got Christmas presents, and everyone spent a lot of time just admiring me.

Early Christmas morning I had to fortify myself with a hearty breakfast:

Gandalf conjured me a pancake in the form of my initial!


Mmmm... pancakes... Oh, sorry, where was I? Right, so there was a lot of work for a tiny elf, what with delivering presents and everything...

I got a whole pile of stuff, I think. I was too engrossed with the wrapping paper to keep track of everything...


In any case, Dad says I was the best gift of all...

Again, I have no idea what he's talking about. I think this may become thematic for our relationship....

--Maddie

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

A $4,000 home movie?

Sure, I suppose you could pay $4,000 to have someone record and edit your childhood. But I find it much more cost-effective to be so fabulous that I have to beat off the paparazzi with a Zweibach biscuit.

--Maddie

Prelude to Turkey Day

Dear Reader,

It's been one of those periods where there's too much going on in my Fabulous Life (TM) for me to even try to cover. Some say a picture is worth a thousand words, so let's give that theory a shot:

The Chiu grandparents came and rolled around on the floor with me:

Don't tell Dad this, but I think Papa Chiu may be cooler than he is. Ever since I broke his cell phone and his car alarm remote by sucking on them, Dad has been really stingy about sharing his electronic toys with me. And I love shiny things with coloful screens...

Also this week I had my first trip to Gymboree! We did all kinds of interesting things, and everything is padded! Mom says that means I can bounce off the walls in greater safety.



All in all, I had fun, although it was hard for me to participate since I'm so painfully shy...


...how was that? Was the delivery deadpan enough? Did you believe it for a second?

--Maddie

Free Maddie! ! !

Dear readers,

I am sorry to report that I am the latest casualty of overshare in the blogosphere. I only wanted to be in a car, and now I am in-car, all right -- in-car-cer-a-ted (I learned that word from my Baby Einstein Baby Prison DVD):


It all began with my fake ID. Cute Barritt and I rented a car and drove downtown, and we had just gotten past the velvet rope at Eleven50. Everything was going fabulously, and I was about to order a Reflux Russian (a White Russian made with Enfamil AR) when suddenly a bouncer came out of nowhere and snagged us!

So, which one of you turned me in? I hope I don't sound paranoid, but really, what else could have given away the fact that we are under 21?

At least I'm not the first person to get dinged for TMI.

"Daddy, will you play me 'Folsom Prison Blues' ?"

I hear that train a-comin', it's rollin' 'round the bend
And I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when
I'm stuck in Russell prison and time keeps draggin' on
But that train keeps a-rollin' on down to San Antone

When I was just a baby, my papa told me lots
--like not to make fake documents by using Photoshop--
But I snuck into a dance club, and I told a lie
When I hear that whistle blowin', I hang my head and cry

I bet there's rich kids snackin' as that old steam engine huffs
They're probably drinking formula and eatin' Veggie Puffs
But I know I had it coming, I know I can't be free
But those babies keep a-movin' and that's what tortures me

--Maddie

"Because it was there"

I decided this week to skip past the whole "walking" phase and move straight to rock climbing:


Walking is just so 11 months, you know? It's like, do 17-year-olds actually read Seventeen magazine? Of course not! Thirteen-year-olds do. Do you see where I'm going with this?

I have to swear you to secrecy, dear reader, but... you've seen my Photoshop skills, right? Well, I'm working on a driver's license, for when I turn three.

Maddie

Farewell to the mullet

Some will say that my hair was charming, and that one should flaunt it if one has it, but I just got tired of looking like a redneck:


I'm not posting photos of the fabu new do just yet, but let's just say it's professional-looking. It's what I need for interview season.

Unlike Samson, I seem to have lost none of my mighty powers due to the shearing.

--Maddie

Reason #274 Why I Feel Sorry for You Grownups...

... I get to bathe in an inflatable duck, and you do not.


--Maddie

p.s. If you are a grownup who does bathe in an inflatable duck, send me pictures and I will post them here.