Aunt Lindsay and Aiden

Friday afternoon I got a phone call from Lindsay. She, Amy, and Andrea were flying out to DJ's wedding in California and had a four hour layover in Atlanta and she wondered if I'd be able to pop up to the airport for a visit. Wild horses couldn't keep me away! I haven't seen Lindsay or Amy in about two years and it was so much fun to see them - AND Andrea, who I had the good fortune to see this summer for a few days- and to watch them interact with Aiden. They seemed to genuinely like him, even though he spit up a large amount of peas and oatmeal on Aunt Lindsay...which is generally not a good way to win friends and influence newly introduced aunts. But she was very forgiving, having other nieces and nephews, of the blood-relation variety, who have done much worse to her. ( I couldn't resist linking to that... Just thinking about that story cracks me up.)

I thought perhaps he might rip one of her earrings out - which made me feel not a little queasy- because he was fascinated with them and was playing with them almost like a monkey swinging on a chandelier, but Saint-Aunt Lindsay tolerated his tuggings and all ear flesh remained intact. PHEW.

So, yes, the whole thing was a very bright spot in my week. Hurray for surprises!

Oh, and by the way, happy wedding day, DJ and Crystal!

( Picture taken with my cell phone.)

I never thought I'd be a hair stylist

The other day I gave Aiden his first haircut because his little mohawky-Tintin-tuft was getting a little unruly. I took some pictures and I just have to share a few of them.

The urge to cut his hair kind of just came on me in the middle of feeding him his first avocado.





Doesn't it look like he has green teeth? EW!


I've never cut anyone's hair before, but I figured that beginning on him couldn't be all that terrible - he doesn't have that much hair to start with. Most of it is in his little mohawk in the front. It's not like he'd get mad at me if I did a bad job. So I guess he's my guinea pig. I'll learn on him as he grows.

I put a dish towel around his neck, got the scissors, wet his hair down, and went to work. Poor thing- I think he was a little perturbed that his mealtime was getting interrupted. And he was having a hard time sitting still because he was trying to figure out what I was doing, which did nothing to make my job easier. "I'm supposed to sit quietly while you are wielding scissors over my head?"



In the middle of it all, I had to stop and laugh and laugh because he looked so funny with his hair combed down flat. I guess I scared him with my hysterical laughter because his lower lip started to pooch out and he began to cry. For after pictures, see Flickr.

A small, weird mystery

Why Stan likes to lick the underside of the kitchen table, I will never, ever understand.