Update

Age: Nine Months.
Weight: 23 pounds.
Head size: 99th percentile.
Teeth: Six.
Thumbs: Undetermined.
Crawling: Military style.
Walking: With help.
Talking: Not even close.
Hobbies: Squirming. Drooling.
Skills: None.
Best friend: Marina.
Only friend: Marina.
Favorite food: Cheese. Dirt.
Favorite toy: Marina's water bowl.
Favorite quote: Aaaaaaaaaaaagh!
Outfits with sayings on them: Worn.
Outfits with animal ears: Worn.
Sailor outfit: Worn.
Comments from strangers on his size: Daily.
Comments from strangers on his cuteness: Daily.
Comments from parents on his cuteness: Every five minutes.

Hello Again

Christmas Tree

Vocal Chord Test

There's happy screaming and then there's unhappy screaming. This is the good stuff. It's a subtle difference, but a significant one.

Teething

Not really sure, but it seems like every one of Adrian's teeth may be coming in at the exact same time. At least that's what I think he's trying to tell us with his constant moaning and incessant drooling.

Tough Guy

I guess when you wear a hat with monkey skulls on it, you have no choice but to cop an attitude. May have to keep an eye on him and make sure he's not sneaking smokes between feedings.

Holy Rollers

Adrian got baptized on Sunday. I was very impressed that he didn't cry once during the church service, the actual christening or even during the reception afterwards. (Think he was equally impressed that I didn't either.)

On a side note, this is the outfit my brother wore when he was baptized. My mom saved mine too, but we couldn't squeeze Adrian's bulk into it. Not by a long shot. I'm kinda glad though, because my outfit didn't come with the swanky baby beret.

Au Naturale

Adrian loves getting naked. As soon as we lay him down on the changing table or get him ready for a bath, his face lights up. Smiling and giggling as we start unbuttoning his onesie.

I know as parents we're supposed to nurture his curiosities and interests, but pretty sure supporting this one can only lead him towards a career as a male stripper or a professional streaker.

Halloween

Here's Adrian's costume. In case you can't tell, he was a penguin.

To make it even more authentic, we tried to teach him how to catch sardines in his mouth from across the room, but he wasn't cooperating ... very penguin of him.

We didn't take him trick or treating either. It was raining. (And he doesn't eat candy.) But, we did parade him around to a few of the neighbors anyway.

Just in case he ever asks what he did for his first Halloween, now we don't have to tell him he dressed up like a penguin and sat around the living room all day.

We'll Keep Him

Even though he's starting to look less and less like me and more and more like Kate. Damn diluted gene pool.

Pumpkid

This is what happens when dad's not around to protect him. (See Oct 7.)

Hello There

Musical Chairs

Seems like all of Adrian's toys and furniture play the same few songs. Frere Jacques. The Wheels on the Bus. Rock-a-bye Baby. Or sometimes, if we're lucky, a medley of the three.

Not exactly high quality stuff either.

They sound like they're being performed on a cheap Casio keyboard. In a closet. Underwater. Way worse than the Muzak versions of songs you hear in the doctor's office.

And to make matters worse, the batteries in Adrian's bouncy chair started dying this morning. Treating everyone to a slightly demonic rendition of Baa Baa Black Sheep.

If Adrian ever goes on a homicidal killing spree, I'm placing the blame on both Fisher and Price.

Overly Girthy

I read about a baby in Colorado that was denied health insurance because of his weight. 17 pounds at four months ... deemed to be 'obese' and the lucky recipient of a pre-existing condition.

Adrian is one week shy of four months and weighs 16.6 pounds.

He's technically on the Atkins Diet already, so not sure what else we can do. May be time to splurge for a Baby Bowflex machine.

Oktoberfest

You can't tell in this pic, but we're both wearing the same booties.

Sailor Boy

Kate's dad was a captain in the Merchant Marines. He drove ships for a living. In other words, he was a sailor.

So, naturally, Kate's mom had to buy Adrian a sailor outfit as a tribute to Tom. (Or maybe because it happened to be on sale.) It has blue stripes, a little white bow and even comes with its own little bitty Dixie cup hat.

Looks like something Shirley Temple would wear.

Which is precisely why it's been hidden under the living room couch for the past month and a half. Until Carol pressured Kate into pressuring me into divulging its whereabouts.

I'm hoping he never has to wear it. And if he does, I'm hoping I never have to witness it.

The irony is I'm pretty sure Kate's dad wouldn't approve of his grandson wearing this outfit either. He'd much rather see Adrian in a Giants jersey ... which coincidentally his Aunt Janis already got him. (And is currently hidden under the bed.)

New Record

Three diapers in under 5 minutes. (Grisly details not included.)

Good Boy

Adrian rolled over yesterday. (And the day before reportedly, but it was unverified by either parent so doesn't really count.)

He started on his belly. Then pushed himself up. Whimpered a little. Rolled on his side. Teetered there while he swung his arm back and forth for about 5 minutes. Stopped. Took a breather. Cried a little. Farted. Then finally kicked his leg far enough to get some momentum and roll onto his back. Hooray!

Not sure how much credit he deserves though. Physics did most of the work. The expectant result when mixing one convex belly, several spastic movements and some good old fashioned gravity.

Tight Squeeze

Think Adrian's time in his little Bumbo chair will be limited.

Even though his neck muscles are finally strong enough to allow him to sit upright, his belly is almost already too big for him to squeeze in the seat for much longer.

I'm guessing he's got a week. Maybe a week and a half. May even have him sleep in there a couple nights just so we feel like we got our money's worth.

3 Month Check-In

Adrian is already tipping the scales at 15 pounds. Our doctor's diagnosis was that he's gonna be a 'sizeable boy' ... which either means he'll be so big that kids will make fun of him, or so big that no kids will dare make fun of him.

Correction

On the April 23 post, I predicted our house would smell like tapioca. That was an incorrect assumption on my part. It turns out a more accurate description would have been milk vomit.

My apologies.

Very Concerned

You'd think spending Labor Day weekend in Shelter Island would fill Adrian with a little more glee. (As it did his parents.)

We definitely gave him plenty of reasons to smile.

Like being able to soak up his first batch of natural Vitamin D since leaving California. And enjoying three days of bacon-laced breast milk.

Or even that he was able to witness grown men slather themselves in sun tan lotion while attempting to set a 'world record' for sliding the furthest distance bare-chested across a row of inflatable fruit-shaped pool rafts.

Nope, still not amused.

Must have a lot on his mind. And from the look on his face, it may have something to do with plotting world domination and/or destruction.

Survival Mode

Adrian started smiling recently. Pretty cute.

And pretty disarming too.

Figure it must be some sort of instinctual Darwinian thing. Keeps us from killing him after he's cried all night, spit up all over the sheets, pooped his diaper and then peed on the wall as we were trying to change him.

Party Time (Redux)

... it's as though I can almost read his mind.

Adrian the Giant

Everyone's first reaction to meeting Adrian is typically, "Wow, what a big baby." Usually followed with, "How old is he again?" and then after a couple seconds ... "Are you sure?"

As if we somehow forgot when our first and only child was born.

Even strangers have been making comments. Getting us kinda paranoid we've spawned some sort of circus side show oddity. Minus the extra appendage and the ability to swallow knives.

The truth is, we don't really know what we've got on our hands.

Kate was adopted, so her genetics are a bit of a wild card. We have no idea if her birth mom had to duck when she walked into rooms. Or even if her birth dad was the kind of guy you'd avoid sitting behind at the movie theater.

Guess we'll have to wait and see.

Although I've pretty much resigned to the fact that we're gonna have to watch a lot of high school basketball games. And most likely spend a lot of time in the freak tent at the county fair.

Well Rested

Adrian slept for nearly 7 hours last night. Straight. In a row even.

Unprecedented.

Of course, Kate and I were still both lying wide awake at 4 am anyway. Marveling over how exciting it was for a change though.

Up until now he's been basically nocturnal. (And therefore, so have we.) For some reason, the moment we'd lay him in his crib at night he'd wake up and refuse to go back to sleep. Without fail.

I even got into the habit of unplugging the monitor in his room so Kate wouldn't hear me swearing at him through the speaker next to our bed. I'm sure we'll probably see the return of the crying, screaming, demon baby from hell tonight.

But, at least last night gave us hope.

Old Man

Adrian turned 8 weeks yesterday.
(That's parent-speak for 'two months')

Wanna Hold Him?

Kids Love Babies

Adrian with his cousins Mika and Tashi. Thankfully they were very good at sharing and this never ended in a game of tug-of-war.

Party Time

Adrian's too young to understand what a birthday is. And too young to know what a birthday hat is. But somehow he already seems old enough to realize when he's being made to look silly.

Carol on the other hand ...

Unimpressed

Here's Adrian modeling his gift from Aunt Judy and Uncle Pete.

And from the looks of it, he must be a Mets fan. Maybe even the Red Sox. Or like his father, the '84 Cubs.

SFO to EWR

The flight was definitely the part of the move we dreaded the most. We envisioned 6 hours of non-stop crying, screaming and spitting up on the passenger in seat 3B.

But, it wasn't nearly as bad as we expected.

Adrian actually slept through take-off, landing and the mild turbulence over Omaha. We didn't even have to break out the emergency bottles of breast milk stashed in our carry-on.

In the end, the worst part of the flight actually turned out to be the Zac Efron movie '17 Again' (Also known as "13 Going on 30," "Freaky Friday," "Big," "Vice Versa," and "Like Father, Like Son.")

Goodbye SF

We decided raising a newborn needed to be more challenging.

So, we thought we'd pack up all our stuff, jump on a plane with a 4-week-old baby and a dog, fly across country, take a new job in NYC and ultimately buy a house somewhere in lovely New Jersey.

If that wasn't enough, we'll also be living with my mother-in-law.

It's the makings of a TV sitcom. But, probably one that runs on HBO because chances are there's gonna be a lot of swearing.

Cry Baby

I can handle the whole diaper changing thing. No big deal. And having to get up in the middle of the night hasn't really been a problem so far. Spitting up on me is annoying, but tolerable.

The part I can't stand is the crying. The screaming at the top of his lungs sort of crying.

It's just so irrational.

At this point, he's either tired, hungry, gassy or needs his diaper changed. That's it. So, logically, once they've all been addressed there shouldn't be any more crying.

Not the case. And that's what's so frustrating.

For now, I'm just trying to convince myself he's singing me a song. Very poorly. Over and over and over again.

Paternity Test

The first picture is Jake. The second one is Adrian. And from the looks of it, he and I may share a few genes. If I wasn't actually in the delivery room, Kate's role in all this might be questionable.

Aaaaaaaaah

Water Weight

I tried convincing Kate to keep taking more Belly Status pics ... but in reverse from here on out.

No dice.

Even though she's finally able to wear her wedding band again. Her pants with elastic waistbands have all been retired. And her ankles have returned to their normal, non-cankley dimensions.

Think it's safe to say any comments I make about her weight are once again officially slap-worthy.

Well, it was fun while it lasted.

Dog Friendly

Aside from the random drive-by face licking, Marina has taken no interest in Adrian. At least for now. We'll see how she reacts once Adrian reaches the walking, talking, tail-grabbing stage.

Nap Time

This is what happens when we stay up partying all night. And by partying, I mean crying and screaming. And by we, I mean him.

Belly Button

Adrian's belly button fell off today. Found the little crusty nub stuck in the back of his onesie.

We know it's not really that noteworthy. But considering his only other accomplishments so far have been poop-related, we thought this one was probably worth mentioning.

Photo Shoot