A tired baby is a lot like a drunk: who knew?

They drool. They shout. They alternate between I love you and I hate you. Obviously they pee their pants. Eventually they tire themselves out and fall asleep.

Here's where they're different: babies get rocked to sleep and all is well.

Watching The Debates

Really. This isn't staged. And yes, that is a peace sign on his t-shirt--a hippie baby shower gift.

Three months old!

Ok, this is a little embarrassing; no posts for a month. In my defense it's been a house-guesty month, what with Mr. Punch's folks staying with us for the month. Not all at once, mind you, but a week here, then two weeks driving through the desert (mad dogs and Englishmen, you know) and then another week here, before going home to their new house in Liverpool to resume unpacking.

I did get around to finally writing to the wee one, the first of hopefully many monthly letters he'll read once he goes off to college. As predicted mine's all soppy, mixed in with a here's what you've been doing so far sort of updatey thing.

So far: he's holding his head up lots, has discovered his hands and tries to stuff both in his mouth at once. He's far more social than he was, not only will he smile if you smile at him, but today my brother Johnny made him cry by giving him the stink eye. It was a play stink eye; his defense was "he did it first, I didn't know it was going to make him cry." His wife is pregnant, so we got even by threatening their baby with the stink eye.

He's really so much fun to play with. He's aware of the camera, but this doens't mean he smiles for it; he's aware of the indicator light, so he'll get very serious and stare at it. You have to suprise him to catch a smile. The best thing is that he gets happy with his whole body: arms and legs kicking, the whole thing.

It really is amazing to watch him waking up more and more to the world. Lucky us.

Two Months Old!

A month ago, when Alex turned one month old, we decided that we should start writing little letters to him every month. Separately, because mine would be all corny, and his dad's would be more along the lines of "Dear Alex, By the time you read this, we might have sold you to the gypsies. The good kind that have adventures, not the bad ones who throw babies at you in Rome" (an actual quote, btw). Except of course that neither of us did, and now it's another month and we've still written nothing, and I really should dig out that super cute baby book that my sister in law made for me while I was pregnant. I should have been filling it out this whole time, but during the pregnancy the whole thing was too overwhelming and I just could not deal. Now of course, its all I think about and can't find the book.

Yesterday Alex got his first immunizations; three shots in his little legs. I nearly cried with him, and for the rest of the day I was all soppy about him. I'm *so* dead the first time he actually hurts himself, which he will very likely at some point. But I'm not thinking about it.

In the meantime, he's a super long string bean baby. Eating all the time. Me too. Poor thing has had crumbs dropped him many times. The worst was when I dropped sweet and sour sauce in his ear. Don't worry. My food is always cold.

Also, in exciting news: He's smiling and making eye contact now! And pooping makes him very happy. Very. Happy. So does being changed. And of course, eating. He's almost laughing, but for now, he really only giggles in his sleep.

Water Baby?

It's Alex versus the Pacific Ocean and right now he is not too happy about it. Hugs, kisses and little booties to warm his toes made it all better.


More pics over at

Alex versus the Pacific Ocean

Secret Admirer Clause

Apparently FTD has one. Someone sent us a cute musical music box type Beatrix Potter keepsake (except it's not a box) via the floral delivery service. And the card wasn't signed. So, I called them to find out who sent it. Curiosity, and also so we could send a thank you. (Six weeks after the sprog's arrival and we are just remembering our manners). Apparently, they have to get the consent of the sender before they could disclose who sent it. This was 10 days ago. So, either the sender wants to remain anonymous, or FTD is yanking my chain. Funny, right?

If you sent us the cute little bunny statue, thanks--whoever you are.

It's the wild, wild west

For mum and dad's anniversary we all went to the wild west town up the mountains (dad loved it, mum was unimpressed, li'l Alex was sleepy).



Mosie over for the complete set:
http://picasaweb.google.com/SionRyG/WildWestAlex8608905PM?authkey=ocJeNxbOWBI