The Saxonator Strikes Back: This Time It's Personal

Hooray! By some miracle of ionic wizardry, the techo God has smiled upon me long enough to grant me internet access so that I can finish my second part of the post about my trip to Colorado. Hope you enjoy it!

Before I go any further, I feel obligated to share with you a recent realization that I have had during this trip. I am too sexy, too seductive, too alluring, too tempting to too many people. Or at least that is what it seemed like when I was in Colorado. Baby fat just pulls the crowds in like you wouldn't believe. Not that I am complaining, you know, because I am a born shmoozer. This is what I do. In other words, if you got a baby itch, I was made to scratch it.

Now, when we last left our intrepid adventure hero, he had arrived in the land of hot tubs and porch swings...Colorado. He had set up his base of operations at Aunt Susie's house and was beginning to run reconnaissance missions to events related to the wedding of Cousin Emily and Cousin-in-law Andrew.

The first of my missions landed me in a basement bowling alley populated by a disproportionately large number of people who looked oddly similar to Grandma Gwen. Naturally, therefore, I felt immediately at ease. I found myself drifting across the room but, oddly, not under my own steam. I had discovered a new way to travel--the mingle pass. Cousin-in-law Crystal is holding me here in the photo and this is where the adventure began. From here, I was handed to Cousin Jana who handed me to Aunt Jolene who handed me to Cousin Peter. Within the course of a few hours, I had effortlessly introduced myself to nearly every cousin, spouse, Aunt and Uncle. The key to it all was my secret weapon which I like to refer to as "the cute factor." As soon as I turn on the cute factor, I'm in business. I clap my hands a few times, scream out a few choice dadadadbabababas, smile incessantly and I pretty go where I want when I want. It's called traveling "cute class."

The next day, we went to the wedding. There aren't any photos of the ceremony because I was a little preoccupied screaming in another part of the church. I made it to the chapel, I sat down with mom and dad, the music started, we stood up, some people came in (mom and dad said it was Emily, her dad, Andrew and his dad (the priest)), we sat down. Then, Andrew's dad started to talk. I mean I know that I am new to this church thing but I could have sworn Andrew's dad specifically asked for a hallelujah. So I gave him one...or at least something that sounded like, "BRRRIIIPPPDADADA!" While I was very pleased with my response, my mom was not. She stood up and took me out of the church (just as I was warming up) and we spent the rest of the ceremony in the church cafeteria. And that is why I missed the wedding ceremony, against my will, I might add. By the way, this is Cousin Jason holding me...his tie was delicious.

We did, however, make it to the reception after the wedding. Apparently, acting up at the ceremony does not automatically disqualify you for the reception...an important thing to remember! I don't know what lottery we won but we totally scored with the seating arrangement. No, we didn't sit with the bride and groom. We didn't even sit with their parents. Think BETTER, COOLER...LOUDER. We got to sit at the kids' table. Cousin Jason, his wife, Honey and their two sons, Graham and Gage sat with us. Now, I could tell you that they are really cool big boys and you might ask, "how cool?" Two words for you people: cowboy boots. I think that says it all.

Sitting with them was awesome because they had toys to play with, Graham took a flying leap off of the back of a chair and hit his head and cried out dramatically in pain, Gage got sick and threw up a bit. I was trying so hard to poop my pants "blowout style" because I knew it would impress the big boys but, unfortunately, it just didn't happen. So, I screamed alot at the top of my lungs, pulled stuff off of the table and tried to drink my dad's beer.

On an unrelated topic, I think that the caterer really liked me. She carried me around as she was ushering people to the buffet table while my mom and dad were getting food. Just another victim of the cute factor!

I was so amped up and exhausted at the same time that by the time we were going to eat cake, I totally freaked out and mom and dad had to take me home. This photo is the prelude to the total meltdown that came about ten minutes later.

I slept like a dead man that night.

The next day, it was time for brunch at Great Aunt Karen and Great Uncle Wally's house.

Chewing on a bagel really helps kill the post-wedding beer hangover. My mom says that's impossible because I didn't drink beer. According to her, I am not hungover, I am teething. Whatever, mom.

This is cousin Peter and cousin-in-law Crystal holding me during one of my more benevolent moments. Clearly, this isn't the first baby this guy has held. You can always spot an experienced lap...good grip, not too tight centered and balanced on the legs, not too shifty.

Here we are eating in the back yard. Cousin Susan, Great Uncle Wally, Cousin Peter (i.e. the aforeto mentioned lap man), Cousin in law Crystal, dad and me.

Here are all the cousins, cousin in laws and kiddies. The totally awesome big boys are in front. I am, naturally, stuck in the back with my lame-o parents. Did I mention that the big boys made a fort in the backyard during the brunch and played with sticks that looked like guns? Meanwhile, my big highlight is chewing on a bagel. Where is the justice in this world?

Naturally, after so much activity, I had to go home for another hot tub session. I simmered at 105 degrees for about twenty minutes and then drifted, no crashed, into dreamy land.

Dad and I rode this cool bus from the car rental return to the airport the next day. I think that in the hurry to remember all the baby stuff...maybe dad forgot to brush his hair. What do you think?

I won't lie. Airplane travel is a challenge for any baby. Toys in the carry on: twenty minutes Cheerios: ten minutes. Mom and dad singing, pleading and acting ridiculous: timeless.

As you might notice in the photo, it seems that we are on the ground and I am asleep. How annoying is it when just as you finally get to sleep, you arrive at JFK Airport?

I finally made it home from Colorado and my first airplane trip and let me tell you, my bed never felt so good!

There is a Part 2...I promise!

I apologize to all you readers out there for not posting Mile High 2: The Saxonator Strikes Back! Sadly, my parents have had technical difficulties with their internet access that is seriously impinging on my Freedom of Speech! The cable man will be coming on Friday to (hopefully) repair the problem (if Kikimora the vicious poodle does not eat him first) and then, release the floodgates because I have quite a few things to share! In the meantime, stay strong Saxontologists and if you find yourself feeling lost in the void between now and Friday, seek the nearest hot tub...it really clears the mind.

Me--A Mile High

Why are we so happy? We just made it off of our first airplane flight without being attacked by the other passengers! Actually, we are very happy to be off the plane and in Denver after four and a half hours in the air. If you look closely, you may notice a slightly glassy eyed stare from me because I am a bit woozy from all the cheerios my mom fed me on the plane. She (very deftly, I might add) bribed me with those tasty little 'o's for quite a long time...at least twenty minutes! I then systematically went through the entire bag of toys and promptly pronounced each and every one of them "stale." That took another twenty minutes. The other two hundred and thirty minutes were filled with my mom and dad doing absolutely everything they could do to keep me mildly (emphasis on MILDLY) amused because I had to remind them, more than once, that I was only one New York minute from full scream volume.

This is Aunt Susie's backyard. Aunt Susie graciously allowed me and my mom and dad to stay in her room--which we promptly trashed like rock stars on a post-detox bender.

My parents aren't usually so messy or rock-and-roll but they are clearly overwhelmed with the additional paraphenalia that I want, need and cannot live without. Yes, a pack and play is bulky but where is a baby to sleep? Perhaps a car seat might seem a bit heavy but I am told they are simply to die for in a car wreck. (Oooh, dark baby humor!)

Aunt Susie has lots of dogs and cats but no babies. Therefore, she has no high chair. That worked out just fine for me. Here I am freestyle eating with my dad al fresco. We decided that freestyle eating should be performed only al fresco. No high chair means greater movement radius, better wind-up rotation and faster flinging speeds resulting in greater splatter distances. I definitely achieved some all time records in all these events while on Aunt Susie's back porch. Now, how do I convince mom and dad to let me eat freestyle in Brooklyn? I know that the poodles would support me on this.

Here I am playing with Aunt Susie on her back porch. Do you see the little chair that she got for me on the table? I am still a little short to sit in it but Susie tells me that I am a big boy anyway.

This is Susie's front porch where she has a swing that I like alot. It reminds me of the swings that I ride in the playground...except I get to snuggle someone on this swing!

Grandpa tells lots of interesting stories when we are in the swing. Two Freds in a swing.

I can't get enough of this porch swing. I have already asked my dad how we can install one on our terrace.

This is Tucker, the ginormous poodle. A poodle this size could eat my poodle at home for a dog treat. Luckily, Tucker isn't like that. She is very, very patient and sweet. At first, she wasn't really sure what to do with a baby because I was the first one that she had met. After a few days, however, she was letting me pull on her tail...which as we all know is international baby for "how ya doin'".

And now, Saxontologists, the time has come for me to discuss the newest addition to the tenets of our collective religion. Bow down and prostate thyself before the altars to end all altars...the hot tub.

Aunt Susie has one of these miraculous things and after just one dip...I am completely done with domestic baths. I realize now what a cruel joke a mere bathtub filled with warm water truly was and that these last nine months have been one very big lie. I can't believe that I naively lived completely unaware that such a hot bubbly, outdoor, communal oasis of joy exists. As you may know, once you jacuzzi, you start to get choosy!

So, I have decided that (Dad, I hope you are reading this) unless you install both a porch swing and a hot tub on our back terrace, I am planning on running away to Colorado to live with Aunt Susie and her dogs and cats....just as soon as I can crawl or walk or drive the car, whichever I master first. My birthday is coming up and I DO NOT want any of those technicolor made in China toys painted with lead. The swing and hot tub are SOooooo much better.

But, this is not the end of my adventures in Colorado! As you may remember, dear reader(s), I attended a wedding, a brunch and a bowling party during which I met many new relatives. However, I am tired now and naptime demands that I bid you adieu (yes, French again! Fantastique, no?) before I get too tearful to type. Stay tuned for Mile High 2 or "the Saxonator Strikes Back"!

My Weekend In the Country

Greetings Saxontologists! Well, it is time again for another Saxonator adventure! Are you ready?

I got into the car (just like I've seen my dad do) and put my hands on the wheel. I figured the car would do the rest but it just sat there. I even screamed "dahbahblahblah!!!!' at the top of my lungs like my dad does when he drives in Brooklyn (except he uses more floridly graphic adjectives). Nothing. I hit the horn with my hand because sometimes, my dad does that too. But the car just wasn't listening to me.

Finally, dad offered to put me in my car seat while he drove me upstate. Clearly, there is more to this driving thing than it appears so I gladly accepted his offer. He drove and I napped on the way.

When we got up to Grandma and Grandpa F's house, I went to the lake and practiced swimming. I like floating. If, judging by my physique, you guessed that I am quite bouyant, you are correct!

I am secure enough to say it...fat floats! Twenty two and a half gorgeous floating rolls of adipose yumminess!

Then, we went to a farm where I could pick all of the blueberries that I wanted. And I can eat ALOT! I have discovered that I can pick up and put these little tasty items into my own mouth AND they taste better than dog food kibble (yes, I know it may be difficult to believe).

Hummmm. Only a true blueberry connoisseur, such as myself, can select the perfectly ripened blueberries off of the bush. Oh look, is this a leaf? Perhaps I will sample it as well...

I 'll just pick this peach while dad isn't looking.

Twist your neck just a little to the right...just a little more...a little tiny bit more...there! It is me and dad with his chocolate birthday cake!

Do you see my little chocolate mustache? I drew it myself. The candles were just too much temptation for a baby with no self control. Later, I fingerpainted with the chocolate on my fingers on grandma's floor.

Happy Birthday Dad!

Well, that sums up my weekend! This week will be particularly exciting because I am going on my first airplane flight. I will be going to Colorado to attend my second cousin Emily's wedding! I am so excited! My parents seem a bit nervous about the flight. They have this absurd idea that I will misbehave on the airplane. If screeching with joy is misbehaving, then count me in!

New Baby Carrier Goes to CT

In case you haven't figured it out yet, I am what is technically called a UB. Unrepentant Babbler? Under-appreciated Boywonder? Uninhibited Bananafan? No, I am quite simply an Urban Baby. While I am unapologetic about this status, my parents seem to feel an overwhelming obligation to redress the somewhat low quota of greenery in Brooklyn by taking me to the country on the weekends. They have a crazy idea that greenery and fresh air will somehow soothe my ravaged urban soul....or at least get me to sleep through the night. (Ha! Foolish adults with fantastical fixations on eight hours of sleep!)

So, here we are in Silvermine, Connecticut. My mom scored that baby carrier in the photos for FREE and we decided to try it out. I love it. I sit very high up and I feel like I am king of the world...or at least king of the trail. I can look around, see everything and throw my stupid hat overboard whenever mom and dad aren't looking. I think that I am starting to understand the SUV mystique...sitting high above it all, feeling superior. I could get used to this.

How to Embarrass An 8 Month Old....

My dad claims that I show him an unfair preference in the number of photographs that I post of him on my blog. "Where is your mother? She goes with us to all these places and has fun with us too," he reminded me just the other day. Of course, she should be on the blog. We do nearly everything together. She plays with me and talks to me and sings me songs and takes me places. I love her. She is my mom after all! It's just that...well, she is a bit...je ne sais quoi! (That's right, it is me, Saxon, speaking French. You are very impressed, no?)

For example, over the weekend, we go to a restaurant. Not a fancy restaurant. Just a nice family-style, outdoor seating type of restaurant. We have to wait for our food because of some kitchen issues. Someone, who will remain nameless, got hungry and started acting out. No amount of bread, chatting, playing or charming would keep her (yes, HER) calm. I tried my best to keep her from disturbing our fellow dining patrons but it was hopeless. As you can see in the photo, I am just mortified by her behavior! When the food eventually came, we ate as fast as we could, dad paid the check and we got mom out of there as fast as we could with the minimum of ruckus. Let's just hope that at some point, she will get a bit better behaved when we go out to eat!

Taboo Baby Topic #1

In the interest of accuracy, I feel that it is time to tackle one of the more sensitive subjects in the baby community...naps. While many people might think that life is all roses for us babies and they might even envy us for our naps, it isn't quite so simple. Often, we babies are FORCED (yes, there, I said it) to nap against our will. We are sitting there minding our own business, playing with toys when out of the blue, we feel a little bit emotional. We make the mistake of expressing verbally this emotional state and BANG, next thing you know we are getting prepared for a nap. My mom says that I have "indicator strips" on my eyebrows that turn red when it is time to take a nap. In the photo above, she CLAIMS that they are visible. I remain dubious.

Next thing I know, I find myself in my bed...against my will. My emotions have taken ahold of me and I have lost the ability to control myself. I am, in a word, angry. (Five minutes after this photo was taken, it all goes fuzzy.)

Now, I know that these photos may shock some of you. The fact that she put me in my bed for a nap when I cried and fussed is, quite honestly, shocking. I feel that it is my duty, however, to come forward with the ugly truth of modern babyhood. It isn't quite the heavenly bliss that some might make it out to be. The sad truth is that, yes, I take two naps a day...whether I like it or not.

Let me just add one final piece of advice, you may find yourself getting sad, tearful, angry or even outraged at the heavy handed behavior of my mom. BEWARE, do not outwardly demonstrate any emotions to this effect in front of her or she could very well put YOU down for a nap too!

Attention Congregation of Saxontologists...

Dear Readers,

The hit counter that I have so cleverly installed on my page indicates that I have a few fans of Saxontology and, for some, it has become a religion. I would like to hear from you because, as you may know, I am a chatter and I do like a good conversation. I have opened up the comment section (located at the bottom of each post) so that anyone (and hopefully, everyone) will put in their commentary, if they are so inclined. Just click on the word comment and go, go, go!!!! Just remember to censor your comments so that they do not shock my delicate infant sensibilities.