That Corona was bottle-licking good.

notice my clenched fist… it’s hard to part with money.

Rio Grande is known for two things: delicious tacos, and edible flatware.

Today I find myself in a predicament. And I, like every other faultless youth, am going to blame this one on dear old Mommy.

Here’s my ish:
8:15 am-I wake up. I flail my arms and legs wildly till Mommy finally picks me up at
8:45 am. We go make coffee, rice cereal, etc. And then at
9:00 am. we eat. Daddy leaves for work, but before he does, he puts me on my playmat at
9:30 am. Mommy showers, and comes out to find me semi-snoozing. At
10:15 am, we leave to go to our Mommies’ group. Semi-snooze in the car till we arrive at
10:35 am, when I wake up to Wyatt pointing to my nose, and Grace showing me her tiger. At
11:00 am, we leave to go to the mall. Semi-snooze in the car. Walk around mall till about
12:00 pm, when we go to Taco Bell and have lunch.

You with me so far? Let’s recap: No morning nap.

1:00 pm- We are still walking around the mall, because that’s what Mommy does. At
1:45 pm, we finally head home. Semi-snooze in the car. We get home at
2: 05 pm. Mommy attempts to put me in my crib, but I just cry until
3:00 pm, when she finally (THANK GOD!) comes to rescue my tantrumed-self out of my crib.

Still with me? Double Recap: No morning nap, no afternoon nap.

3:30- I’m finished eating, I don’t want to do anything but sit on Mommy’s lap for fear I’ll have another baby meltdown.
3:57- The current time on Mommy’s laptop. Mommy: drinking reheated coffee from this morning *yes, it’s been one of those days* And me: whiny, distressed, red-eyed, and desperately trying to fit the entire dining room table into my mouth.

With any luck, Daddy will come home early so I can let him experience the burn of what happens when sweet little Hugo doesn’t get his sweet little naptime.

But praise the Lord for Thursday, everybody!

Mommy pretends like she’s going to eat me. And Mr. Giraffe pretends to eat her.

No, its not the 4th of July. It’s not even a multiple of that. But we are going to talk about it, so please feel free to reference my newest photo posting of me in my patriotic gear. Go Kerry!

So, my 4th of July was unlike any other I’ve ever had. And no, I’m not being sarcastic or facetious– last year I was in utero, unknown to the folks that love me, and but a mere little blastocyst.

This year, I was decked from head to toe in red, white, and blue. (Gramma Denny would be so proud– she’s like a shorter, younger, more female version of Uncle Sam. Except without all the confiscation of tax dollars, or the hat.) So anyway, I celebrated my Americanness for a bit, and then pretty much went on with my day as usual.

The highlight: Fireworks? No way, I was in bed. Apple pie? Nah, we stick to Mama milk. Parades? Too hot outside. Having an extra day with Daddy at home to make me smile for my blog photo, only to be posted twenty-three days later? Priceless.

Have a good one, and kudos to Wednesday.

I share my favorite section of couch with my favorite Muppet.

Mommy has just posted this on our front door:

Wanted: A live-out nanny (unless she’s cool with sleeping on the couch) for a 5 mo. old baby genius/website model. Full-time gig. Hours: 7-5, or 6:30-4, or 8-6… something around there. Must be similar to Mary Poppins, (i.e. practically perfect in every way) Must be familiar with such diddies as: The Hokey Pokey, The Apples and Bananas song, Gwen Stefani’s Holla Back Girl, Snoop Dogg’s Beautiful, and anything ever sung by either Julie Andrews or Nick Lachey. Must love to give zerberts, wipe up drool, and watch The Best Week Ever on VH1. Must have own transportation, so we can enjoy outings to Nordstrom and Starbucks twice weekly. Experience required, German/English bilingual speaker preferred. Wages negotiable. And by negotiable, we mean you can stay for dinner. Please inquire within.

Daddy chats with the photographer about snapping a shot of my double-chin.

Acorn squash, to be exact. I eat that now, in addition to the infamous rice cereal.

Life is good with the squash. It makes my spitup a bit more colorful now, and validating the use of my numerous unsightly bibs, which, no matter which one I choose, always seem to clash with whatever I’m wearing.

In other news, I’m also working on drinking out of a sippy cup. Mommy got me one with handles, so I can grab it. And by grab it, I mean smack an open baby Hugo palm onto it thrusting it far out of my reach, and thus causing me to employ the fake cry, “ahh he, hehe, ahhh he he”. It gets Mommy every time! And before I know it, Mr. sippy cup is back in front of me, for me to swat at once again.

My roomie-Mc-room-room is done being painted. I love it. Stimulating, yet calming. Vibrant, yet subtle. Patterned, yet abstract. Child-like, yet mature. My parents are just so clever. (Applause)

And while we’re clapping, let’s put our hands together for Monday. Awesome!