Watch out.

He's growing faster than I can see. One minute he's a baby in my arms, the next he's trying out being a kid.

We just got back from a four day trip to Boston, one of my conferences. Flying was better than expected on the way out, and as bad as I thought it might be coming back.

Baby Benadryl, by the way, is a lie.

It wasn't that bad. He cried and fussed for three hours, and slept for three hours. In my arms. Even with a sling, it still hurt.

Boston was funny; apparently, the bug has powers of zapping random people on the street with his cuteness. This never happens here. Either the kids there are not so cute, or there aren't any kids there.
And then there's this picture below: What?


We just ditched this table. Not to prevent delinquency, which from the looks of this photo, seems like a good idea, but because the top is glass and it's all super sharp corners in a very small space. Also it was spacky and had to go.

He understands "no" and won't come into the kitchen (one of the rules). He'll stop if you call his name: here he was reaching for something dangerous, and I called him. Hence the look.

Thanks to Tia Pita for the fabulous attitude appropriate T-shirt. Y que, indeed.