Thanksgiving...

I'm thankful for my Mom...


I'm thankful for my Dad...


I'm thankful for my Aunts and Uncles...


and my Cousins...


I'm also thankful for my binkie...


and all the warm cloths I have to wear.

Purple Pickle Pumpkin Eater...

This Gentian Violet stuff is out of control. I can't seem to keep it in my mouth. My Mom told me I have to take it every night before bed in order to get rid of an infection in my mouth.

But Mom look what happens. You know I can't go a night without peeing or pooping my pants. What makes you think that I can go a night without spitting up all over myself? And worst of all, my spit-up is laced with all this purple stuff.

Isn't there an easier more effective type of medicine for thrush. I can't stand this. It stains everything...most importantly my face. And just to inform you, I think my face is by far my strongest asset...I need it to get chicks.

Toys!

Mom got me a fun mat to play on and I love it. It has these things that hang down and jingle. I could play on it all day long... or until mom tries to get something done. Well anyways, here are some pictures dad took of me with my new stuff.

5th Percentile...Come On, Whatever!

So, I had my 2 month check-up the other day and I guess I'm a little on the leaner side compared to the average American baby.

So check it out... Here are my stats:

Weight= 5th percentile
Length= 10th percentile
Head= 50th percentile (This is because I'm a genius)

To me this is just ridiculous...Look how fat I am in this picture.



And this one too...



Now this one is a doozie!!!



Well, I guess the truth is that America is overweight and I am living proof. They say I'm underweight but from what these pics show, I look pretty chubby. You be the judge... but if you ask me, I'd say that I'm not the one who needs to gain weight but all you other babies out there need to shed a few pounds.

Milk Drunk by Noon

Today, Mom started work...so I'm sad. On the other hand, Dad and I got to spend some quality time with each other. The day mostly comprised of sleeping, eating, crying, and a little swing time. I enjoyed myself for the most part, however I didn't tell dad about my little problem and I feel I need to tell him publicly.

I'm a Milkaholic...



I know it comes as a shock but the fact is I love it. I can't express to you in words how much I crave milk. I heard one little girl say that breast milk is better than a mango and that she would trade a million melons for it. I've never had a mango or a million melons so I can't say that I would like either better. However, I can say that milk is the bomb.com!



So dad, those drunk like eyes and limp arms were all from the milk. I'm sorry I didn't tell you that after 2oz of BM I'm slammed... I mean, I'm a light weight. I can't help it. It's crazy to hear those gangsta's talking about 40's and all I can handle is 2oz.