Pudding ...

Well you tell me, what would you do if you were eating yummy pudding, left handed, and you could not shovel it in fast enough to satisfy your craving for the sweet stuff? You'd do the same thing I do, shovel it in your mouth with your fingers. Need I remind you of my penchant for sweets? I though not. Don't get between me and my pudding. I have teeth and I'm not afraid to use them.

But seriously, isn't pudding good! I could eat that stuff all day long. Something tells me though that the old parental units would not let that happen. Nope, they keep putting vegetables, fruits (which I don't mind, especially mandarin oranges and blueberries) , mashed up mystery meats, and assorted grains and cereals, (all equally mysterious) on my tray. You'd think after seeing me smash it into my lap or throwing it onto the floor they'd get the hint.

A side note, aren't I getting big! If you cannot read the yard stick below, I'm about 30 inches tall now! I'm huge! And putting on some serious weight I might add. Probably about 250, 275 pounds now. (Parental interjection: Fox is about 22 - 23 pounds, but feels like 250). I'm just about all grown up now. I'll soon be asking for the keys to the car so I can go driving, playing loud rock and roll, flouting authority, and stuff. Yeah, going out with the ladies, on dates, going to the movies, running errands, on the phone, doing homework. Yeah, just like all the big people do. I'll be cool ... Soon enough, soon enough.


- Fox out

Doing well thanks.

Wow, has it really been that long since I've sat down with the old man and made him post for me?  Sorry folks, I'll try to keep on top of this with a bit more attention from this point forward.  

I have to say that the pacifier recovery is going nicely.  I hardly ever use the thing now.  Occasionally I'll have a bit of a pull off the old plastic nip if I have a rough time of it during the wee hours of the morning, and then only after one of the parents has relented and stuck the thing in my mouth after a good 15 minutes of crying.  OK, maybe 5 minutes of crying, but at 3:00 in the morning, 5 minutes can seem like 15, or longer.  I did get a special pacifier treat the other day when, while cruising at break-neck speeds across the vast expanse of the living room, I crashed hard into the sofa.  I still have the remnants of the bruise on my tender forehead to confirm that unfortunate encounter.  I have to say though, I have become quite the mobile little diaper filler.  And aside from the one bruising, I am fairly steady on the old feet.  

It's a good thing too, being so mobile, with the food consumption up as a result of my pacifier addiction / recovery, were I not so mobile I might be mistaken for a basketball.  

Have a great week and I promise to post with more regularity.  I hear prunes help.

         

Through Green Colored Glasses

One of the unfortunate side effects of having a pacifier addiction is an insatiable hunger and complete lack of table manners. While I have to admit, my table manners were never up to Ms. Manners' standards, they are definitely no better now that I am a recovering addict.
While I have been told that this is a short term side effect, it can be embarrassing. I can forget about eating in public for the time being -- I won't go into the gory details regarding the most recent incident, suffice it to say I am no longer welcome at the local all you can eat Chinese buffet. Who knew Crab Rangoon won't come off rice paper?
Anyway, I'll be taking my meals in the comfort and safety of my own home from here on out thank you very much. I can let my hair down this way without worrying about embarrassing anyone -- or getting Crab Rangoon out of fake bamboo.
Enjoy the photos this week, I'm enclosing one of Big Brother and I this week, we're hanging out, watching some TV. I hear it's good for my development or something like that. Could someone have the local Chinese delivery joint send over some pot stickers and an order of Lo Mein?

Pacifieraholic

Hi, my name is Fox and I'm a Pacifier-aholic. ("Hi Fox") I first noticed a problem when I found I was inconsolable without one. At first everyone thought it was cute, heck, I thought it was cute. I could handle it. What's a pacifier or two here or there? You have one before bed, maybe after lunch. Pretty soon I was reaching for one as soon as I woke up. I had to have one with breakfast. I was sneaking a quick one when ever I could. Then it was two, even three at a time. I just didn't care anymore. I'd pick them up off the floor, from under the sofa, heck I'd even take one from the darn dog if he'd let me. I had it bad.
I'm learning to take it one day at a time though. I can kick this thing. I'm admitting I have a problem and that's half the battle right? I mean I know I've made mistakes. I've thrown a fit or two now and then just because I could and I occasionally unfold all the laundry mommy folded. I know I'm not perfect. But I realize that the big man is watching over me. Yup, there are greater forces at work in the world. Knowing someone out there has got my back, I can make amends for all I've done and kick this Pacifier addiction I have. I can be strong, man - one day at a time, one day at a time man.
My name is Fox and I'm a pacifier-aholic.

- Fox out.

Light

OK, the parents are calling it, my first official, clearly understandable word is "light". As in light bulb, flash light, candle light, key light, moon light ... well you get the point. Those of you familiar with my early days will no doubt fondly recall my fascination with lights from my first moments upon this green planet. Literally, I was enthralled with lights, and in a loose association as the two commonly habitat together, ceiling fans. I still harbor a closeness for ceiling fans, but it is the light that truly tugs at my heart strings. Not just lights that reside in the ceiling mind you, but lights on desk tops, lights on wall sconces, lights above the stove, the light in the flashlight, the lights in my toys, lights on cars, and yes, the little light that glows so invitingly on the remote control. Whenever I enter a room the first thing I do is look ceiling-ward, point and say "light". I have even been allowed, once or twice (two or three hundred times), to turn the light in the kitchen of our home on by flipping the switch up. I have not figured out pushing the switch down to turn it off, but that's what parents are for.

If one listens carefully enough, I also mutter other less than distinguishable phrases -- less distinguishable that is if you don't live with me. I can say "what is it?" (wu-e-zit). Doggie (duhee). Daddy (daddy). Mother (ma). Juice (guce). And myriad other phrases that my parents have yet to translate, though I swear I don't think I could be any clearer. If they fail to comprehend I simply fall back on the old standby -- wailing. Loudly. So far I have been a clear and effective communicator, can I put that on my resume yet?

Just an design note, there are no photos of me this posting (I know, I know) as this is a post about words, not images. Enjoy the dictionary photo though and reminisce about your first words.
- Fox out.

Correction ...

Did I say I was having a slow day yesterday? First things first, big brother is alright. If you have not heard by now, big brother took a fall through the ice at a pond on the campus of Binghamton University yesterday making the lead story on the evening news and in the Sunday paper. Seems he and his friends were playing outside at the park (better than sitting in front of the TV all day) and ended up down the nature trail and on the icy pond. Warmer temperatures, global warming, three boys standing on the ice in the same spot at the same time ... you know the rest of the story. Luckily for all involved, a jogger happened by and had the presence of mind to call 911. A side note and a plug for "Man vs. Wild" on the Discovery Channel, one of big brother's friends had seen the episode where Bear Grylls demonstrated how to survive a plunge through the ice. Big Brother's friend did as Bear demonstrated, stripped off his clothes, in the icy water mind you, pulled him self out of the water and ran at least half a mile (naked) to the home of a family friend to get help. Kudos to him. Luckily for the two remaining in the water, the local volunteer fire department, commanded by Chief Chuck Paffie, was having a volunteer day at the fire house -- so all hands were present, hastening the response time.

Long story short, big brother is fine now. I doubt he'll be going near the pond anytime soon.

So much for a slow day.

- Fox out

Dog Days

Not much going on here today. Just hangin' out really. In fact, it's been a slow week overall. The biggest news is that I am switching day care facilities this coming week. Yup, last day at the old day care was Wednesday. We really did not like that facility. The new day care is right at mommy's hospital and is top notch from what I hear. Land of milk and honey, err, no honey of course, they do know what they are doing there. I was on the waiting list to get in to this new day care since we moved to New York, seven months ago. They have a long list to get in. It's pretty exclusive you know. Have to travel in the right crowds to get noticed. Rub elbows with the right folks, grease a few palms, that sort of thing. Very posh. Ivy League of day cares. I'll be a Yale man before you know it. Go Bulldogs! Captain of the crew team, yeah, that sounds good.

Anyway, like I said, it's been a slow one all week, but you make the best of it. Call a few friends over, play with some blocks, snack on some Cheerios, perhaps read from the classics, Cat in the Hat, Curious George, and of course One Fish, Two Fish Red Fish, Blue Fish, ah - my favorite! Eleven fingers! Where did he come up with that stuff! Genius!

Well, as exciting as this is (ha!) I'm a bit drowsy. Think I'll take a quick nap. The doggy looks comfortable, maybe I'll give it a go. Talk to you later!

- Fox out