It is not okay to pick someone else's nose

Dear He-man,

Thank you very much for having me over to your house yesterday to play. I really enjoyed playing with your wide variety of toys...I will discuss this particular issue in more detail a bit later. I was also very impressed with your crawling skills and was enchanted, quite frankly, with your graceful cruising along the side of your crib and amongst the furniture. In retrospect, however, I realize that my social inexperience may have caused a few awkward moments between us that I feel compelled now to redress. Okay, the truth is my mom had a word with me on the way home and said that I had a few apologies to make.

Number one: I now understand (after further discussion with my mom) that it is socially unacceptable to pick someone else's nose. I really have to plead ignorance on this one. I have played with the poodles in the past and they never seemed to take issue with me putting my hands and fingers all over their face. However, in my defense, their nostrils are slightly smaller and I haven't really had the opportunity to put my finger up there before. I have come to understend that this is not okay to do to people. People are not poodles. I am crystal clear on this now and promise not to do this in future.

Number two: I have come to learn that manhandling and/or sparring for a particularly interesting toy is also somewhat taboo during playdates. This is not the first time that I have appreciated your fine connoiseur-like taste in toys. I have noticed at our playdates in the past that the toys your mom brought were stimulating and yet, understated, with a subtle whiff of the educational. Therefore, given my clear appreciation (and not unsubtle envy) for your toys, I hope that you can forgive my momentary lapse in judgement which led me to physically wrestle that captivating little xylophone out of your grasp as you screamed and begged me not to. I was, quite simply, a man possessed.

In sum, I hope that the socially inappropriate gestures made by myself during our last playdate will not negatively impact our fledgling friendship. You are a dear friend who has shown me great compassion and warmth. You are also my only friend. As I am writing this and contemplating the possibility that our friendship might cease because of a few social faux pas, I find that I am crying uncontrollably. No wait...actually, is that the time? It's nap time. I cry uncontrollably at this time every day. You, of all people, can therefore understand that I must go now. Nothing comes between me and my nap...not even an epic friendship such as ours.

With warmest regards,
the Saxonator

When Can A Hike Be A Siesta?

So my parents tell me, 'Hey, Saxon, we are going to go hiking, Yea!!!' I think, 'Wow, hiking, hummm, what is that...sounds exciting!' My mom puts on my camo pants and a T-shirt. She slathers me in sticky sunscreen from head to toe. She mists me down with stinky bug spray. She fusses about which hat I should wear and which carrier my dad could transport me in. She packs water and keeps talking about "hydration". (whatever that is.)




By now, I am pretty excited. This sounds intriguing. Sun, bugs, potential predators requiring camoflage clothing to protect us...yes, we are going on an adventure! (For the record, braving the crazed mommies and daddies in the Brooklyn Fairway grocery store on Sunday does NOT count as an adventure, I don't care what mom and dad say.)






I get in the carrier and we start off with Uncle Brooke into the forest. I am soooooo excited. And my dad is walking and walking....and walking....and walking and I think to myself, "is this it?" Sure, there are trees and birds and sunlight and plants and all that but after five minutes, it sort of starts to repeat itself. Now, I have been known to watch a few favorite DVDs on repeat but at least it has variety for THIRTY minutes before repeating itself! So, being a baby, I did what I do best...



Yup, there I am in the carrier with my dad. Just call me Mr. Outdoorsy.













In my seven and a half months of life, I have come to live by the philosophy that "there is a solution to every problem on the other side of a nap."






After the hike, we stopped by a really big waterfall (and nearly touched poison ivy!). Here I am sitting with Uncle Brooke. I felt so well rested after my nap/hike that I sat on his lap and played for a while although to be honest, I think that I would have preferred to be taking the photo.

So, there you have it, dear readers, my first hike. I found it quite relaxing, not at all strenuous and very restful. I highly recommend a nap/hike to any baby out there who can find a willing and muscular co-hiker willing to bear the weight (which in my case is not light).

p.s. thank you Uncle Brooke for the photos...once AGAIN, my mom forgot the camera! Will she ever get her head around the parental thing and start remembering cameras and diapers and other essentials?

Me and My Poodle

This is my poodle, Kari. She loves me very much. When I was still in my mom's tummy, Kari already knew I was there. My mom says that she took a very serious interest in cuddling with the big belly (where I was quietly floating).








After I was born, Kari greeted me when I came home with lots of kisses and curiosity. Now, she follows me everywhere and licks my face whenever she can. I like to sit on the floor and watch her play with her toys while I play with mine. Sometimes, Kari has a hard time distinguishing which are baby toys and which are dog toys...to be fair, they do look very similar.




Sometimes, I wonder if she is a bit confused and thinks that perhaps I am her puppy...she just sort of forgot giving birth to me. As you can tell we love each other quite alot.

Of course, there is another poodle who lives in my house but she is another story for another blog entry....

Innisfree on Sunday

Last Sunday, mom, dad and I went to a garden in Millbrook, New York called Innisfree. We walked around and enjoyed the lovely weather.

Here I am with my dad relaxing in the shade. The garden is full of places to sit and relax or in my case, places to sit and eat grass, leaves, twigs, bugs and whatever else I can latch my hands around.

The best part was getting to roll around in the grass. I have only recently figured out that if I lift my front and sort of wiggle my back that I can scoot a few inches. My mom says that it isn't quite crawling but I am getting close! I am soooo proud of myself when I do this!

Yeah for me! Am I great, or what?

This is my sailor look

.

I have to be honest, somewhere around halfway through the garden, it all goes kinda fuzzy. I remember rolling in the grass, giving myself all kinds of cheers, playing with the hat, tickles, giggling and then...next thing I know, my dad is taking me out of the carrier and putting me in the car seat to go home. I did enjoy the grass, trees, flowers, bugs, birds and other creatures in the garden. Dad says that someday maybe we will have a garden of our own!

You can see more photos of Innisfree Garden (which is uniquely beautiful, deserted and zen) at http://www.innisfreegarden.org/.

Adventures In Sand

Hello dear reader(s)! I am back in Brooklyn and once again, my mom has set up the photo reader on the computer for me so that I can update you on my latest adventures.

As I mentioned earlier, I spent last week at G Squared's house with the poodles and my mom. We had quite a few adventures which I will try to tell you about in the next few posts. It is going to have to take a few days and different posts to cover it all because, let's be honest, pudgy short fingers just don't type so fast!

Last week, over the long Fourth of July weekend, my dad and mom took me to Lakeside Park which is near G Squared's house. That is where I discovered this amazing substance called...sand.
My dad put this sand stuff over my legs and they...DISAPPEARED! It was absolutely incredible. I looked and looked but my legs were completely gone! Then, he moved the sand and my legs magically appeared just like they were before. Incredible. I tried to pick up the sand but it just sort of slipped through my fingers. I tried to eat the sand but it was sort of gritty and not so tasty. I am still very puzzled by the whole mystical experience but I can't say that I didn't really like it. In fact, I am very much looking forward to my next encounter with this strange and magical substance.

While we were at the beach, my dad and I went for a little swim in the lake. Well, that is probably a bit of an overstatement. We actually sat in the water and splashed a bit. I really enjoyed the water and the kids running around and playing were better than watching TV! I just can't wait until I can run and jump and splash like those big kids!

On a side note, you may wonder how a diaper wearing baby such as myself could get in the water without emerging with a gigantic saturated diaper. Did you know that there are special swim diapers for babies? They are made especially not to swell in the water. Who knew?

Here I am with my dad after our swim. That green T shirt is a special SPF 50 shirt that helps to keep my very pale Anglo Saxon skin from turning bright red. Do you see how pale my dad is in the photo? Multiply that by 10 and that will give you an idea of how pale I am! I guess I didn't get any of my mom's olive skin tones!






On a totally unrelated, but very personally important subject, I have a new high chair in which to eat! As you can tell, I am thrilled. Previously, I was eating from my walker which presented a number of problems for my parents. Most significantly, I really enjoy eating and walking at the same time. They kept complaining that it was very difficult to shovel food into my mouth as it whizzed by at supersonic speeds across the kitchen floor. So, I (very kindly, I believe) agreed to the high chair with the specific caveat that my food quality and quantity not be altered in any way whatsoever.

Where's Saxon?

Greetings, dear readers (assuming that it is not just my grandma out there reading this), you are perhaps wondering where's Saxon? The answer is quite simple. My mom and I are with the poodles at G squared's house for the week. My mom has to help G squared..yadda, yadda...I just tune out at some point because, quite frankly, chasing the poodles and kitties in my walker is so much more interesting. Anyway, my mom has been photographically documenting my adventures but forgot the thing that will transfer the photos to the computer. Typical. And so, I will wait to recount my latest adventures in detail and allow the suspense to build.....

Let's just say that I have very recently discovered the mystery that is sand!

Brooklyn Baby Social Life 101

You might wonder, "what sort of social life can a baby have living in Brooklyn?" Certainly, it is possible but I admit, there are just a few logistical issues that must be taken into consideration when shmoozing as an infant.

First of all, my dad (being his usual unreasonable self) has refused to give me the car keys. Thus, transportation is a major factor in setting up any playdate. I've accepted the fact that I will be pretty uncool as long as my mom has to chauffeur me in the totally humiliating baby stroller. Maybe I can pretend not to know her once we get to the playdate...hummmm......

Also, there is the diaper issue. Without getting too graphic, a diaper bag and supplies is an essential item to bring along to all social events in case there is a "blow out" (you diaper wearers out there know what I am talking about). No body will invite a stinky baby back in future.

You might think that I would be limited for conversation or activities at 7 months old. But, you would be wrong on both accounts. I often impress even myself with the verbal acuity and sparkling wit that a fellow Brooklyn baby brings out of me. As you can see in the photo above, I am chillin' with the He-man at his crib (well, actually near his crib) and clearly, we find each other mutually engaging. Who cares if the adults don't understand? Haven't they ever heard "goo goo ga ga" in a Brooklyn accent?

Exotic locations for playdates are very recommended. For example, the park is a nice place to hang out...you can yell as loud as you want to, eat grass and dirt off the ground and pick up dog poop when your mom isn't looking. (Oh man, does she scream when I do that...it's awesome!) The possibilities are endless really. The He-man and I have a weekly meeting in the park to check out the other guy's newest toys, show off our latest tricks (The He-man can nearly crawl!) and do a little baby sparring. You know, manly stuff.

So, that pretty much sums up the basics of the complex science of social hierarchy and interaction amongst cool dudes like the He-man and me. We don't go for the fancy shmancy baby gym or fruity music appreciation classes. We like to keep it real...me, my dude He-man, a blanket, some crazy colored toys and the moms...who are only tolerated for the logistical support mentioned earlier.

ps. I wanted to thank He-man's mom for the photos that I hijacked off of He-man's internet photo album. My mom is a bit lame at remembering the camera sometimes!