Bee Baby

At long last... the Bee Baby photo is here. Some of you have seen it, some of you have begged for it. I am, unabashedly, your Bee Baby photo pimp.
 
 

Baby Blues

The Punnett square says that the chances of Curt having blue eyes are low, as both his mother and I have brown eyes. His blue blue blue eyes are gorgeous, and I hope they stick around, though T's mother swears up and down that hers changed very late... around 9 months. At least I have photographic evidence if they do change.

I love how much personality he has now. No more infant poker-face. If he's happy, I can tell. If he's not, better look out.

The New Cuteness

Okay, I'll admit it, I've been remiss in my blogging duties. I wonder how many sporadically updated blogs have that particular theme... Well, I at least, have an excuse. Observe:

Here is Curtis at one day old. He's a looker. What's nice is now that he's a little over six months old, he smiles, babbles and interacts with me and T non-stop. Below, there's a more current picture:


See that winning smile? Keeping that smile on his face has been a full-time endeavor for the two of us. Imagine... two fully grown and well-trained professionals stymied by a crying jag that lasted for 15 minutes. It felt like 100 days, but nonetheless we were reduced to humble servants under an adorable infant thumb.

Thanks to Matt, who guilts me into productivity with his minute-by-minute updates on the Gus Blog. And for his suggestion that I read Dooce. Why it's comforting to know that someone else's child's cry is like the Burning Gates of Hell flung wide to her parent's faces, I don't know, but it is.

Curt can do all the things infants his age are supposed to, except sleep all night- so don't ask how much sleep I'm getting. This is a compromise I can accept. Feel free to comment on the hair. Everyone does, and 50% of people in public think he's a girl for it. I am not sure why. I'd like to make him a button that reads something like "I am a boy and I have hair. Sorry your kids were bald and less attractive." T assures me this would be Not A Good Thing To Do.

The stats, for those of you who haven't already heard:

Curtis Evan Norris
5/1/05
7lbs. 4oz

I'll post some more photos as time permits(ha!), possibly to include the Bee-Baby photo, if I can find it.

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For the record:
If I am ever in a persistently vegtetative state, my wishes are as follows

DNR
Comfort Care Only
No Antibiotics
No IV/No feeding Tube

In other words, harvest my organs and bolus me with potassium on the table.

Yeah. So, I just tried to out-pace Whitman on glasses of wine. Didn't happen. I tried valiantly, but he started in on the porto, and let's face it, that was just over the top for me. Six weeks of common cold will get you off your pace like that. Fortunately for me, I managed to look as tispy as he did. Hope he wasn't counting glasses.

Random thoughts:

I got drunk and bought an orchid. That's a first for me. Damn that barleywine's siren call! Anyway, the name of the the sub-specie is "Santa Barbara," so I've named him Jim. We'll see how I do with a high-maintenance plant. You know, orchids with the misting and the feeding and the just-so lighting.

I went to a couple of intellecual events this weekend: the Portland Auto Show and the Gun and Knife Expo.

I love cars, apparently. So I dragged Gene there to look at the new stuff, of which there was greivously little. Audi pulled their usual stunt of bringing a bunch of pre-production cars that were all locked up, and unavailable for any hands-on. If you wanted to play with the $90,000 flagship, you were in luck, but an A4? No dice. The guy gave me some lame ass excuse about not having room on the truck to bring more. BMW, by comparison had everything on the lot, all open and with interiors powered up to play with.

The Gun and Knife show was another let down, of course. I particularly liked that the first booth on the right was a shrine for All Things Nazi. Stupid fuckers. All the One Man/One Woman bumper stickers on the SUVs in the parking lot didn't help, either. I brought Sister-In-Law with me, so that mostly kept me on good behavior. Anyway, the quality of the merchandise was just crappy. I'd initially wondered why Benchmade or Gerber weren't there, but then I realized that this was not the market they want- overpriced knock-offs of real brands. There was exactly one guy selling custom knives with just amazing workmanship, blue dyed giraffe shinbone with 14k gold inlays, but I just was not up to spending $300 or more on something I have no pratical use for. Sister-In-Law got her hands on her beloved Desert Eagle .50 cal, so that part of the trip was a success. Yea! Weaponry!

Well, I wrote all this before I got sick- I think all the redneck fun wore down my immune system. Consequently I am too tired to elaborate further.

Val Kilmer is my new hero.