On Saturday, we went to music class and I introduced my dad the lifestyle of a rockin' Brooklyn baby. The drums are my specialty.
During the all instrument reggae jam, I busted out all the stops to impress my dad and played the drum while simultaneously chewing on the eggplant shaped shaker.
The countdown has begun! The problem is, I have absolutely no idea what we are talking about (and I can't count). Dad says that I was around for Christmas last year so this is no new thing. I have to admit, however, that last year is really, really fuzzy. I vaguely remember...to be honest, I remember nothing.
As for me, well, I am turning on the charm. I am sure there is something in this whole "Christmas" thing for me. I just haven't figured out the angle yet.
And then, it is time to tell about what happens when a Saxon turns one. First, you are given lots of wonderful boxes covered in fantastically noisy paper. 
Then, the box is opened to reveal toys and clothing that is generally less interesting than the box and paper.
Uncle Tim has footballer aspirations for me. I am unconvinced.
But that is not the best part. The best part is....
That is right. Food is involved in this one year birthday celebration...much to my delight.
Some strange tradition involving candles delays the gratification of cake for just a bit. What are we doing here? Are we eating cake or what?
o, I try birthday cake for the first time.
I think I like this.
ALOT!
I FEEL FUNNY...I JUST WANT TO GIGGLE UNCONTROLLABLY.
I AM BUZZZZZZING!
uh, oh....sugar crash Very soon after this photo, I cried, took a bath and went to bed early fearing a major sugar hangover the next day. I might have overdone it a bit.
Luckily, I felt pretty good the next day so mom, dad and I went for a walk in Regent's Park. 
We took the subway which I thought was very exciting.
The next day, it was time to go back to Brooklyn. I was really, really amped for the entire seven hours. I decided that I would set a personal challenge...is it possible to perform a transatlantic scream. Answer: YES!
But as soon as I got in the car for the ride home to Brooklyn, the supreme effort expended in performing the superhuman transatlantic scream caught up with me. My mom and dad were slightly annoyed with me that I decided to sleep only upon arriving home. What they don't understand is how good it feels to be back in Brooklyn.
So, the adventure continues! Me, mom and dad rented a car and went to Brighton for a day. I mentioned earlier that mom and dad didn't speak very much because they were concentrating on driving on the other side of the road. I didn't have to concentrate too much driving the car seat on the other side of the back seat so I fell asleep.
When we got to Brighton, we walked along the pier and looked at the rides. 
Sadly, it is the middle of winter and a school day so there weren't any kids to watch. Luckily, however, the sun was shining (although I wouldn't want to go swimming!).
We went to Harry Ramsden's for "world famous fish and chips." I got to try it for the first time and I LOVE IT! As you can see, me and my dad are both big fans of fish and chips. Does that make me very, very British?
After we returned to London, I got to spend one evening with just Grandma P and Grandad N. They did the whole evening routine--feed me, play with me, love me, bathe me, dress me in pjs, put me to bed, listen to me scream, put me to bed again. Mom, dad, Uncle Tim and Aunt Rebecca went out for a night on the town. Here are Uncle Tim and Aunt Rebecca after "a night of freedom" (from whom I wonder) in the cab riding home.
But I digress, first, we flew over on the plane...which was three hours late. My parents (being the consciencious international travelers that they are) left for the airport two hours before the original departure time. That means, we got to spend five fun-filled hours at JFK WAY, WAY, WAY past my bedtime. Luckily, however, the airport was pretty deserted at that time of night (we didn't leave until midnight) so I set up shop near a empty gate with all my toys spread out and just crawled around to my heart's content. I was sooooo happy and getting soooo much exercise that I didn't really notice that a turbo poop had escaped the diaper and coated the interior of my shirt to the shoulders. Well, I didn't notice it until my mom said, "whew! what stinks?" Next thing I know, I am naked in the middle of Terminal C at JFK while my mom and dad are giving me a wet one wipe down. Refreshing? Yes. Dignified? No.
We got on the plane FINALLY and man was I pumped. I was on NO SLEEP and felt pretty cranky at that point. I was running on fumes and ready to vent my complaints to the general passenger public. They, however, were less than enthused about hearing me complain for the next seven hours. They apparently thought that the flight was meant for sleep. I don't know what kind of box these fellow passengers live in but this baby refuses to be confined, manhandled, controlled, pacified or disciplined. I told my parents just that for three full hours. Just as I was getting to the second sub-point of my verbal oration, mom gave me a refreshing pink aperitif. My eyelids got very heavy and the next thing I remember...
....Me and mom in England! Don't I look refreshed...what a great nap!
Here I am with my English family--Uncle Tim, Dad, Grandma P and Grandad N. They can hardly contain me because I see all of the wonderful items to grab in Uncle Tim and Aunt Rebecca's totally breakable household. So much to break and so little time!
I am quite adept a riding the tube around London as you can see. We were even lucky enough to have a few really sunny days for exploring!
Just three Brits riding the tube!
Aunt Rebecca (isn't she glamourous?) met Grandma P, Grandad N and mom and I for a boat ride to the 02 Dome to see the King Tut exhibit. I must admit now that the exhibit totally escaped me. Luckily, mom brought a totally fascinating piece of paper that kept me entertained for more than an hour. What can I say? I am a baby of simple tastes and paper tastes good.
Dad rented a car one day and we drove South to Brighton. In keeping with British tradition, I also "drove" the car seat on the left side of the backseat...it felt wierd. I noticed that mom and dad didn't speak too much on the drive down or back. Mom just kept murmuring periodically, "right turns are left turns and left turns are right turns." Whatever that means.
That is correct Saxontologists. In a mere matter of a hours, I will be airborne to the land of my father's birth and the home of the original Saxons...England. 
You might wonder how a baby fills his days in Brooklyn. Of course, I have many activities to keep me busy between naps. However, I do insist that my mom takes me for one particular activity almost every day. I must, without fail, go to the playground around the corner from my house. I always nap better after a little playground time.
When I was a little younger, I could only swing. I liked it well enough but I knew there was more to be done. As soon as I started crawling, a whole new world opened up to me and I started to climb and crawl like the big kids.
I can go down the slide (and I even try to climb up the slide when my mom isn't looking).
I like to climb through the tunnels and peep out the little holes.
I clap for myself (because, let's face it, I am great) in the tunnel.
I pick up all kinds of leaves and debris and try to put it in my mouth before my mom can stop me.
Needless to say, the first time I put it on last Saturday to go to the park for a Halloween festival, I could barely conceal my disdain and humiliation.
She once again pulled out that horror of monkey suits for playgroup on Tuesday. 
Luckily, however, I was in good company. I wasn't the only poor little baby to be dressed in a humiliating outfit. Does this look like a happy lamb to you?
He-man was equally disgusted with his mom for dressing him in of all things...a cow suit. Then, she has the audacity to think that he is going to actually going to go along with it if she calls it a "baby bull." Puh-leeze!
On Halloween night, lots of my friends came over to help give out candy to trick or treaters (we had more than 1000!) . He-man and his mom and dad were there. Who is the bee, you might ask? That is my friend from music class, J.R. (as in...who shot? his mom is from Texas!) J.R. seemed most comfortable with his costume but then again, being the child of artists, this isn't his first flamboyantly striped outfit.
After we ran out of candy, He-man, Sarah and I went upstairs to play. Isn't it amazing how interesting your own toys become when other kids suddenly find them interesting.
He-man swears that he and Sarah had "a moment" and announced today to me at playgroup that he has fallen in love with a certain crazy redhead with a penchant for pink clothing who will remain nameless.
Finally, my mom saw that I looked a little woozy and she took my hood off. You might notice how my sweaty hair is matted to my head. We were taking our play quite seriously!
Here is Adam (isn't he getting big?) and his mommy, Aunt Kate.
And finally, this is why every child should disown his mother completely and totally by the age of 12 years old. Otherwise, this is the sort of humiliating evidence that will definitely be shown to potential girlfriends. Big deal, so I was a little engrossed in play and neglected to notice that my costume had slipped in strategically unfortunate places. Did we really have to get photographic evidence to capture the moment for posterity? Bad mommy.
