Everyday Life – This Kid’s Cuteness? Ridiculous.

An Interpretive Dance I Like to Call, “The Bullet Point.”

Excuses for neglecting my blog (feel free to believe whichever you choose):

  • I was attacked by a mob of angry chickens.
  • Damn those holidays. They take up all your time.
  • I have attempted to have some semblance of a life outside of my home/away from my computer.
  • I developed an unnatural fear of cheese and avoided mice of all kinds.
  • I didn’t feel like writing.
  • I am a giant, insensitive douche.
  • Bacon.

Kickass New Rocket Tricks:

  • He will act out and mimic the sound for the following animals: dog, cow, chicken, rooster, bear, fish, lion, monkey, horse, sheep, and elephant.
  • He is walking!
  • Musical instruments he will pretend to play: drums, fiddle, and guitar.
  • He gives high fives, bumps fists, and gives eskimo kisses.
  • When asked what The Count says, he responds with , “Ah! Ah! AAAAAAH!”
  • He is learning to feed himself. A bath is occasionally required after one of these sessions.


  • He headbangs in his car seat whenever we play any Metallica while driving.
  • He will also headbang to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. That song, apparently, fuckin’ rocks.
  • When the theme music for Family Guy begins, he will immediately stop whatever he is doing and intently watch the television.
  • You can ask him to bring you a specific book from his collection and he will bring it right to you.

A Photo Montage I Like to Call, “Playing Catch Up.”

Oliver’s 1st Birthday




That last two photos are not a photoshopped joke. We actually gave him a gigantic piece of cake to trash. He munched on this for about twenty minutes. After the party it took another two hours of cruising round and round the couch before he finally passed out on the floor.

Gingerbread, Bottle Rockets, Gun Powder, Oh My!




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Of Course He Would Have a Kick Ass Birthday Cake.

We take our cake making very serious in this household.

The plan, drawn by Jeremy.

The cake.

14 layers, baby! Fourteen.

A Year of Oliver

Today our little Rocket turns one! This has been one of the greatest and most challenging years of my life and I wouldn’t change one minute of it. He is more amazing than we could have ever imagined.

Happy birthday, Ollie! We love you!

Then

Now

Everyday Life – Kilroy

Remember When…?

Remember when I said that I hoped to pass my love of reading onto Rocket? I think my dream has already come true! He LOVES being read to. He will actually dig a book out from the bottom of his toy box, crawl over to where you are, and hold the book in your face as he is climbing onto your lap. Then he will sit there, forever, while you read book after book after book to him. Sometimes when he is playing by himself, he will grab a few books and look through them over and over. If the book is upside down, he will even correct its orientation so that he is reading it the right way. How funny is that!

Remember when Oliver had two teeth? He now has twice that amount. A third came in on the bottom and recently a top tooth has made its entrance into the world. He likes to click his bottom teeth against his top tooth, and his face is so damn cute when he does it.

Remember when I said I stopped using that bullshit Babywise method? Well, for the past month or so, I have been doing pretty much everything that that book said we should absolutely not do. Like feeding your baby to sleep, and going into their room to comfort them everytime they fussed, etc. etc. And you know what? It’s fucking working!! For the past week Rocket hasn’t cried at all when we have put him to bed for the night. AAAAANNNNDDD for the past three days he has slept from about 8PM straight through until 7AM. (I believe!! Halelujiah!!) So if anyone ever hands you this book and tells you it worked wonders for them, calmly take it from their hands and then SLAP THEM REPEATEDLY IN THE FACE WITH IT. Babywise, my ass.

My Child? Stubborn? Please. I Wrote the Book on Stubborn.

After about an hour of fighting with Rocket to go to sleep, laying him down in his crib, letting him cry for increasingly longer periods each time, we decided that the only option left was to let him cry it out for as long as it took. We knew he was tired. We could hear him stop to yawn in the middle of his crying. We would see him, as we looked up at his room from the kitchen, standing half asleep with his head resting on the rail of his crib. Finally after about twenty minutes there was quiet.

Jeremy crept upstairs to make sure he was ok, then steps out of Rocket’s room and, with a whispered laugh, says, “Sus, you have to come see this. Bring your camera.”

We both tried to muffle our giggles as I took a picture of this.