Splish Splash, I Was Takin' A Bath...

Okay, so tomorrow will be Nigel's third week in the outside world. Talk about time streaking by - the kid's gonna be a teenager before we know it. Today we had to take him down to the health clinic downtown to re-do a blood test, which of course meant that Nigel had to get his little foot stuck - actually, he had to get it stuck three freakin' times because the first two sticks didn't yield enough blood. Poor little guy. He howled, even when Margaret nursed him. He wasn't having any of that, and I can't say that I blame him. He's cool now though, with a band-aid on each little heel. We also weighed him and he is now 11 lbs. 8 oz., up from his 9 lb. 3 oz. birth weight. He's gonna be a big boy, just like his daddy, although hopefully not fat like his daddy.
While my sister and her family were down last week she revealed that she was expecting. Nigel is going to have a little cousin by December or January. We're all really happy for her.
We gave Nigel a bath a couple of days ago (not his first, thank you very much), and so it goes without saying that cute-as-hell baby pictures resulted. Check out the first one below:


Isn't it cute how he's posing in a manner that covers his unmentionables? It's like he knew the camera was on him. The kid's a natural. He still doesn't seem to dig baths though:



Yeah, that's one pissed off bay-bay! He does like the whole shampoo thing though, just like he did in the hospital. Just look at him sporting his naturally wavy 'do:



He just radiates cuteness, doesn't he. He's even cute when he's filling his diaper. He'll get this serious look on his face and suddenly you'll hear this loud wonk! and then he kind of sighs, which I suppose is justified, seeing as the business of doing his business is pretty physically demanding. While we're on the subject of that end of his anatomy, I might as well break out the photo we'll be showing him later on - say, to his prom date - to embarrass him:



That's right, check out that cute little baby ass!
Our friend, Ladona, visited last week from San Diego. We had decided early on in the pregnancy that we were going to ask Ladona to be Nigel's fairy godmother. We sort of sprung it on her, and she seemed understandably surprised, but she agreed to do it, joking (I hope) that she might have to knock Margaret and I off so she could take him home. Here's a picture of - get ready for it - Ladona and Child. (rimshot) I love the look on her face.



Isn't that great? The two of them seem to be saying at the same time, "What the hell?" Ah, good times...good times...

Fauxhawk!

So we shampooed (shampoo'd?) Nigel's hair the other night before taking him to a friend of ours to get his photo taken professionally. Just like in the hospital, he really dug the water on his head and the shampoo. We even gave him a little faux mohawk before drying him off. Tell me that's not the cutest freakin' baby in the universe...go ahead, I dare ya.


My other sister, her husband, and two of his kids from a previous marriage arrived in town yesterday. They drove all night from Boston and we had a little family get-together last night so that they could meet little Nigel. Chucky, the older of the two kids, is joining the Marines in September, so tomorrow we're going to drive down to Parris Island to take a look. It's about 60 miles south of Charleston, just outside of Beaufort. I've never been there (I went army), so I'm tagging along out of curiosity. The below pic is my sister and her husband, Chuck, properly adoring Nigel. That's Zach, the younger kid, in the background.

The Kid Is Alright

Wow, would you look at that first photo below. Hard to believe that something so perfect could exist in this decidedly imperfect world. Harder still to comprehend that an ugly mug such as mine contributed to the DNA of that beautiful widdle face. He definitely has his mother's looks. What's that? Oh, yeah - I did in fact say "widdle." Baby talk is in full effect these days, and I could care less how silly it makes me sound. I have taken some time off from work and our days are spent feeding, changing and generally fussing over widdle Nigel. I don't think I've ever been happier in my life.


Not that it's all fun and games. Nigel is a baby, and babies of course have their moments. Take the photo below for instance...



That's baby Nigel clad in his "leaving the hospital" outfit. His grandma picked it out especially for him, and while it is very cute, I can at the same time identify with Nigel. "Get me outta this thing," he seems to be saying. When he's quiet though, the kid is positively angelic. Proof can be found below...



Awwww, look at the serious look on his litt- er, I mean widdle face. So cute. Anyone thinking that this blog will now be nothing more than a place to dote on my newborn son...well, they're absolutely right. I'm a proud parent, dammit. Just try and stop me!



Look at his widdle hands compared to my big mitts. I can almost hold him with one hand (I don't dare though). That's father and son together below, and yes, that is indeed spit-up on my shirt. He tagged me just prior to the photo being taken. He also "got" me a couple of days ago while I was changing him, and man, was his aim good. No problem kid, fire away. You'll always get a smooch in the end.



I am SO digging parenthood...