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Archive for the ‘Photos’ Category

Some Independence Day fun:

Visors are awesome.

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Watch out Williamsburg:  there’s a new hipster in town, and she’s armed with an appropriately vintage hoodie (and a love of the oeuvre of Wes Anderson):

If they had a QB named Fran, why not Pru?

The hoodie in question used to be Sarah’s from when she was a baby:

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As today is Father’s Day, I will provide an interesting piece of patriarchal trivia:  Did you know that Ronald Reagan was the last U.S. president to not be named after either his father or his grandfather?

George H. W. Bush was named after his maternal grandfather, George Herbert Walker.

William Jefferson Clinton was named after his birth father, William Jefferson Blythe, Jr.

George W. Bush, though not a junior, was clearly named after his father, George H. W. Bush.

(Reagan is also the last president whose father doesn’t have his own Wikipedia page.  Coincidence?)

Interestingly, this trend will almost certainly continue through 2008, since both major-party candidates (Barack Hussein Obama, Jr. and John Sidney McCain III) and the leading minor-party candidate (Robert Laurence Barr, Jr.) are all named after their fathers.  If you’re interested in breaking the trend, note that neither Ralph Nader or Constitution Party candidate Chuck Baldwin are juniors.  (I wasn’t able to determine whether they’re named after their respective grandfathers.)

Since all you really come here for are cute baby pix, I have included a picture of Pru decked out in her Flag Day best after the break.

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Seymour Skinner: Superintendent, I hope you’re ready for mouth-watering hamburgers.
Superintendent Chalmers: I thought we were having steamed clams.
Seymour Skinner: Oh, no, I said steamed hams. That’s what I call hamburgers.
Superintendent Chalmers: You call hamburgers steamed hams?
Seymour Skinner: Yes, it’s a regional dialect.
Superintendent Chalmers: Uh-huh. What region?
Seymour Skinner: Uhh … Upstate New York.
Superintendent Chalmers: Really? Well, I’m from Utica, and I’ve never heard anyone use the phrase ‘steamed hams.’
Seymour Skinner: Oh, not in Utica. No, it’s an Albany expression.
Superintendent Chalmers: I see.

See generally.

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Band-Aid, be gone!

Prudence had her 6-month check-up this morning. 

Height:  27.0 inches (90th percentile)
Weight:  16 lb 14 oz (69th percentile)
Head circumference:  43.5 cm (78th percentile)

She was very cooperative in stretching out for her height measurement.  She was not so pleased with the shot or body examination that followed.  As you can see below, that passed fairly quickly.

Giant baby

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Let’s see, what can Pru do now?

One thing is sit up on her own.  She does eventually fall over (or, more often, slouch over) but she can keep her self up for long enough that I think we can add this to her official skill set.

Where do Mommy and Daddy sit?  Good question.

Her manual dexterity is also developing nicely.  She’s a grabbing fiend.  Particular favorite targets include:  Sarah’s hair, my beard, my chest hair, shirts, Petey, her mini-penguins, her pacifier (which she likes to waive around for a few minutes and then drop).  And big-people food.  She loves to grab at that.  She took a fist-sized chunk out of the bun of a McDonalds Southern-Style Chicken Sandwich I was eating last week, which she proceeded to lick and suck on.  We tried to explain that she’s not ready for refined and processed grains yet, but you know how kids are, they never listen.*  She can also hold her bottle in place when she’s eating.  She’s like a cartoon baby.  She’s also working on petting the cat.  Right now, it’s mostly just a species of grabbing (particularly his ears – he’s remarkably pacific about the whole business) but she seems to get the idea that she’s supposed to be running her open hand over his fur, and occasionally she can pull it off.

What else?  Well, she babbles.  Like it’s going out of style.  And she looks like she’s starting to teethe.

*Note to Department of Children’s Services – we didn’t actually let her eat any of the bun.

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She's even more excited than she looks!

Baby’s first political manifesto.  Thanks, Dr. No!

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