b l o g o r e l l i

Guitar Hero

Some boys love their trucks, some love building blocks, and some, inexplicably, brooms. Lincoln Olav is interested by all the aforementioned things -- but not so much as his "guitar", or, actually, Bobby Crocker's squash racket.

Auntie Titty can say that she knew him when...

Hey Kitten, whatcha doin'?
Wanna play the guitar?
You say, what's that sound
Coming out of the hole in the wood?...
It's the guitar

Hey baby, whatcha doin'?
Playin' with your rattle and plastic car?
You say, what's that sound
Coming out of the hole in the wood?...
It's the guitar

Hey mama, where ya goin'?
I hope you're not going very far
Because what's that sound
Coming out of the hole in the wood?
Tell me what's that sound
Coming out of the hole in the wood?
Hey, what's that sound
Coming out of the hole in the wood?
It's the guitar

No Boob

Around two weeks ago, Lincoln Olav finally, FINALLY said my name. The "event" happened when I was over hanging out with Cho while Bobby Crocker prepared dinner and the BBK had some tub time. For weeks, I (and Cho) have pointed at my chest while saying, "Christi, Chris-ti, Ka-ris-tee." This particular night, the BBK looked at me and proclaimed...

"TITTY!"

Ok, because of the choppiness, he actually said, "Tit-ty!" But there it was...I had officially become "Aunt Tit-ty." Aunt Titty.

"Oh well," I remarked to Cho afterwards, "it's probably the first and last time anyone will use a derivation of that word to describe me."

So for the past two weeks, that light of recognition would come to his eye and then..."Tit-ty!" I don't mind, really, but of course my first name is conveniently a phoentic rhyme with the word that refers to breasts in the same dirty way that "panties" refers to underpants, or as The Prof's friend Jerri calls them, "underly panties."

I needed a bit of a pick-me-up this afternoon and so Cho sent an email with what I needed to hear: last night, while looking through his little brag book full of close up shots of people he knows, Lincoln got to the last page (with my picture) and announced, with no help or coaxing at all: “CHRI-TI!”.

Thank god he's mastered the "ch" sound.

The Barbarian Baby King, He Is One Year Old!

One year ago today, I awoke from my fitful sleep on the couch (my mom and stepdad were in town) to hear the news -- Lincoln Olav had finally emerged! Around 1 pm that very same afternoon, Mom-orelli and I trooped over to the hospital for The Butterbean and I's first meeting. I felt completely in awe; I'd say he was overwhelmed as well...not because of The Chin necessarily, but because he'd entered this BIG world.

Flash forward 365 days. This morning, I woke up next to The Professor (who'd been trying to schedule a date with me around the same time BBK came forth) and at 1 pm, I found myself hanging out with the little guy...again. Except this time, I didn't almost brain damage him with my clavical and we were celebrating his first birthday!

With an All-American theme, hot dogs, cake, pie, AND a bubble machine, I'd say the party went off without a hitch. Now I can only sit here and think in disbelief of how much has happened in one short year...

The yard: ready

The grill: ready

It all started so innocently with watermelon:

Then came the cake AND pie (blueberry):

One year later and I have yet to take a picture of Cho, me, Bobby and the BBK together. Oh well, I guess at least three's company (ha!)

If anyone craves MORE cuteness, don't blow a vein or anything, but I actually am trying to start posting Photo Albums again. So I decided a first birthday was worth the effort. Enjoy!

Nothing Says "Marathon Monday" Like Baby Fauxhawk

Sure, being an Auntie is fun all the time, but maybe a little more so since the arrival of someone's fluffy mane...!

Barbarian Baby King (And Family) Update

For having his *own* Category, I realized that the Butterbean is sorely lacking in coverage around here lately. He's over 7 (!) months old now, and developing rapidly...especially his thighs. Anyone looking to nurture the next American yokozuna should be scouting the Stoneham area

Here, some photographic evidence of the pre-mentioned "girth":

The happy threesome just returned home to MA after a trip out west to Santa Fe. Barbarian Baby King, as Bobby has christened his son (or BBK, as I refer to him) managed to take such a massive BM (uuuuh, that's daycare speak for #2, people) in the security line that Cho had to spend 20 minutes cleaning him up in the airport bathroom afterwards. A 20 minute cleanup that included wiping the poo out from the wrinkles in his chubby little arms and legs! What can I say? The boy is either an exhibitionist or gets nervous stomach in public places. I can relate to both.

BBK also rolls over, has two teeth (even though I dreamt that he grew seven and then proudly looked at me and said with a huge grin, "I GREW SEVEN TEEF LAST NIGHT!") and is eating soft foods. Soon he'll walk, want to take the car out unattended, and start sneaking sips of Auntie Blogorelli's cocktails...they grow up so fast.

I marvel at how much can change in seven short (?) months:

Ok, two more gratuitious shots:

"I eat, I bathe in sinks, I AM THE BARBARIAN BABY KING!"

Finally, Someone Figures Out How to Put Diapers Where I Would...

...down the toilet!

While medical science works on granting my wish of completely unconscious and painless childbirth, commerce has achieved another dream of us past non-recyclers...flushable diapers.

Don't get your Huggies all in a bunch...because gDiapers are entirely natural, with no elemental chlorine, dyes, or plastics. Why it's "Love at First Flush" (that's from gDiaper's website, and I love a cute tagline.) Developed by a couple in Australia when faced with the realities of having a child AND the current environmental situation, gDiapers are basically pads that fit into the line's 'Little g" pants.

While I'm totally on board with the Earth consciousness and lifestyle convenience messaging of gDiapers, the mechanics are a bit cloudy. The website suggests tearing the liner apart to flush, so that three sides of the inside material are exposed to water. The starter kit comes with a "swisher stick"...something that seems to indicate disposal doesn't always go as planned. What's soaking up the #1 and #2 in these bad boys? I'm guessing corn husks. Finally, since I've bought a diaper, although now I can say that I've changed one (gratzie, Butterbean,) I don't know if $52 for a case of 160 liners make gDiapers a bargain or luxury purchase.

Finally, if for some reason the general public still feels bad introducing gDiapers to The Porcelin King, "flushables are so gentle on the Earth you can even garden compost the wet ones in one compost cycle, approximately 50 – 150 days."

Composting? Whoa there...I'm greener but not nearly making a compost bin yet.

The Cheetah Whisperer

Trick or treating in Stoneham turned into eating-pizza-while-costumed (kids, not adults) in Stoneham, but the evening still tickled me pink because I LOVE BABIES AND PETS IN COSTUMES!!!

Below, some highlights...

"Although more sociable than Leopards, Cheetahs are solitary animals."

"Starting at 5.5 weeks, Cheetah cubs are led to kills by their parents."

"Lacking cover, a Cheetah tries open slow approach toward its prey, watching or even coming closer for a better look."

"The Cheetah greeting ceremony consists of sniffing, face licking, and checkrubbing."

Little Man, Big Beef

Pretend that I posted this digipic on Labor Day…the Butterbean (new nickname alert) eyeing up his first hamburger! Trust me, Linc, you'll be eating lots of these at Auntie's house.

The Heat Is On

..."on the street," it's 95+ degrees. But the temperature is not what this post refers to. The heat is on ME, Auntie Blogorelli, to come up with my "signature" infant comforting move. Obviously, I've never thought about this topic, considering that no infant has crossed my path before Saturday. And I know exactly how BKP Sophia likes to be hugged spoiled.

Lincoln Olav is home and continuing to do well. With each passing day, he looks less red and more perplexed at how he ended up in this big world (join the club, guy.) He's also pretty lanky and usually falls asleep immediately upon seeing me, which could explain a lot about my personal chemistry with men.

Since our initial bumpy (the bumpy part being my collarbone) introduction, I've learned that each person kind of comes up with their "style" of baby cradling. Dad Bobby does "The Shoulder." Nana (Maggie) prefers "The Rocker" (horizontal variant.) And whatever Mama Cho does is pretty much absolutely perfect, especially if she's got one of these crazy Boppy  things and it's feeding time.

But what's Auntie Machine Gun's signature move? Because The Leg is definitely not the solution to charming this boy...

Considering that it took me nearly 23 years to perfect "The Chin," Lincoln and I are going to need some time to work out how we click. Although I suggested to Bobby that perhaps I could use my God-given compulsions to calm him...the finger picking/anxious fiddling would provide a nice vibration (which I've heard babies like,) combined with a little unintended non-stop humming...topped off with a nice cocktail in hand to keep MY nerves at bay.

A few more pics (some by Bobby+Cho, some by myself) below!

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The handsome devil close-up --  with OPEN eyes!

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Time to go home...check out the stylish striped hoody outfit for the journey.

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A lean, mean, infant sleeping machine.

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Cho and Lincoln (in the pram that Cho's mom used when she was a bebe.)

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Who bought that adorable rabbit blankie, hmmmmm?