More to love

We've all heard about my chubby cheeks, or jowls, or chipmunk storage units, or whatever wise cracks you want to make about them. And quite frankly, I'm tired of the jokes. I'm a baby and I'm supposed to have chubby cheeks. Perhaps that's why I sometimes appear a bit confused about all the chubby jokes.
Before you comment on the following, let me remind you that I am still a baby and my thighs are supposed to look like this:It means I'm healthy...And well padded...And could possibly survive several days on my own. It has been brought to my attention that my thighs are the same circumference as my mom's biceps. All that means is that she is scrawny and possibly malnourished. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if all these jokes about my fluffiness scar me for life...

Finally, if you think this means I'm a porker, I offer this video of my reluctance to eat anything placed before me:

It was mashed squash...

Bad hair day

Because my mom is technically in charge of this blog she sometimes exploits me. Seriously, what self-respecting baby would put something like this on her own blog:

Not cool, mom, not cool. I guess I should be happy I'm finally getting enough hair to style, no matter what style that may be.

Despite my mother's twisted take on recording my childhood, I am developing into what some would call a happy girl. Case in point, this extremely cute (if I do say so myself) photo of me at my mom's office taken today:

Roadtrip!

My parents got something called "Mountain Fever" and decided to take a road trip to Sacramento to visit Onay and Papa for the weekend. The drive part was pretty boring (Bakersfield to Sacramento, anyone???) so I conked out. My mom was nice enough to snap this shot of me in my rearview mirror.
I know my cheeks look big and may be the reason my jaw is slack, but I think it's an optical illusion caused by the bulbous baby mirror. Or, it could be the fact that I'm now eating mushy foods on a regular basis. Here I am enjoying some carrots on a Monday.
No, I don't know why my bib has the day on it either. To tell you the truth, I can't tell one day from the next and I think my mom purposefully puts the wrong day's bib on me just to confuse me into think I didn't eat the same thing for dinner the day before. She's sneaky like that...Anyhow, back to my road trip.

I had a great time visiting Onay and Papa. Here I am with Onay in her backyard:
And here I am with Papa in the living room:
Onay and Papa were so shocked at the size of my jowls that they decided to get me on track with my first exercise machine. It's called an 'Exersaucer' and seems to have been designed to fool we babies into thinking exercise is fun. So far it seems to be working. Thank you Onay and Papa!In addition to learning to eat mushy foods and exercise regularly, I'm also learning to drink plenty of fluids. Here I am with my first drinking vessel:I'm told I have to bring it on my next roadtrip, which is to someplace called a "Camp Out" where I have to wear a pirate costume and be pushed around in a baby jogger while my parents sing songs and run around the beach. Sounds like fun.