Friday, January 26, 2007

This Is a Tooth. " A What?" A Tooth. "A What?" A Tooth. "Oh, a Tooth."

Finally! I got a picture of the elusive (sharp! oh, how sharp!) tooth! You have to look really close, but it is the pearly thing on his gum that looks like glare-- it's a tiny, jagged tooth edge, not a glare.

In other Harry news, I think there's a new one coming in because he's been quite screamy today, as anyone who's been on the phone with me can surely attest. Right now, he is chewing on the antennae of a stuffed caterpillar with a very concerned expression on his little face. I'd take a picture if my camera weren't busy uploading tooth shots right now. I know a couple of weeks ago, we swore that screaming = talking, but what can I say? We're new at this.

We are still thrilled about the house and having fun arguing over shades of beige. Harry and I have had a great Friday, and we even visited Ben and work to bring him some lunch and some screams.

Here are just a couple of pictures of the world's cutest baby. His dad and I are not looking so cute these days because we are EXHAUSTED. We thought 7 month-olds slept BETTER than newborns. Hmmm.

He's saying things like "a booba," "hummubba," and "hyyaammaabu," but certianly NOT "grandpa," "labrador," or "shetland," as some have claimed.

Anywho, enjoy the pics and come visit us soon! Or, as Harry says, "Eehhaahaaboommuu."

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Yikes! I Have a Tooth, and My Parents Bought a Townhouse: Big News From Harry

That's me sitting in what will soon (ish) be our new living room. I sure hope my parents do something about the walls, curtains, and floors.

I'd show you a picture of my tooth, but my mouth HURTS, people, and I'll bite and gum anyone who tries to shove a camera in that area. You hear that, Mom? Dada? You guys better be listening to me. Apparently you're not. Is this the face of a happy baby? N.O.

Here's the new house from the outside. Even though we have our own front door, my mom will probably still make everybody take off their shoes. So wear nice socks, okay? And for goodness sake, whatever you do, don't use her kitchen scissors to open packages-- she cuts FOOD with those things-- how many times does she have to tell you that?

Just when I though my mom couldn't make us look any sillier, she decided it was so cold out that if we wanted to go for a walk (and apparently at least half of the "we" did, indeed, want to go for a walk-- guess which half), I'd have to be zipped under the big old coat she wore last winter when I was still on the inside. Cool, Mom. Real cool.

Here I am eating a cookie, whichh is much harder than you might think it is. I have only been eating non-Mom food for a month a couple of weeks, okay? It's tough to shove stuff in my pie hole. Mmmmm...pie.

My mom and me playing with every single one of my toys at once. Then she gets all overstimulated and starts to cry. What a baby.

I just realized that those idiots (that'smy pet name for Mom and Dad) are driving this train. Scary stuff.

My grandma helping me get dressed in a cute new outfit she brought me. I look huge, man.

I know-- you're thinking "Where is that baby's coat? Maybe he was right about the idiots." But don't worry. After putting me in my Uggs and my hat and mittens, they strapped my in my seat, put a blanket on me, and zipped a fleece cover over the top of my chair. I was sweating my you know whats off by the time we got to breakfast. Idiots.

Look at my curly sweaty locks.

Have I mentioned how delicious glasses are? Especially the behind the ear grease on the ends of them and the risk I take sucking on glass and sticking my tongue in the hinges-- yummy.

I do like restaurants.

I told my parents I'd help them pick out a new couch-- nice of me, huh? It;s a tough job, but someone has to do it.

Oh wow. You put me in the toybox, Mom. That's h.i.l.a.r.i.o.u.s. Do you see what I mean about the idiots being in charge? Speaking of idiots, where the heck are they? Someone messed his slacks, and I'm not saying who...

Sunday, January 14, 2007

The Big .58.

No, silly. Not our blood-alcohol level. Harry is 7 months, or .58 years, old today.

No captions tonight, Harry fans (and we all know that some of you are hairy Harry fans, too). Instead, enjoy some adorable pictures of the Harry man devouring his delicious birthday sign, playing with his chime garden and piano, and cracking up as the Tickle Monster pays him a visit. What a little cutie pants.