This must be how it happens...

You know how those people always say that you have kids, then blink and they're 18? The past few weeks sort of showed me how that might happen. Except he's still such a total baby. Blink. Still not working...

I dyed my hair blue. I wanted two chunks of blue under the top layer and it's pretty cool that way. Except that, the hair around the blue seems to have picked up some of the dye and is now sort of a peacocky green. But mostly it's cool.

I'm also thinking of getting a tattoo. I am not kidding. Geeky classical musician by day, geeky classical musician with freaky blue-green hair and a tat by night. I got stretch marks, see. A little map of somewhere european with lots of twisty streets has appeared around my navel. It reminds me of these patterns in an old fallen tree we took pictures of on Mount Hood. I am not the kind of girl who bares her navel anyway, making it an eyes-only sort of region. So if I chicken out you will never know, ha-ha, unless you are the 87% of my readership known as "J".

Let's see...

In other news, Tobias has continued to grow. He weighs 15 pounds now- at least, he did 3 days ago. By now it's likely up around 50. Despite this he often requires me to carry him in my arms through miles of Target aisles. He disdains the car seat because he runs the risk of getting Bored there. Apparently, the view is radically different than laying directly in front of me like a prince surrounded by toys and a crazy lady repeating "Doot doot. DOOOt doot doot! Dooooo de doo." while smily wildly and trying to offer the pacifier in a manner deemed acceptable.

We have a similar scenario in the car. All is happy coos or contented snoring while the vehicle is in motion. But God forbid we encounter a red light, an old lady walkering across the street or any other reason to stop for even the briefest of moments. He has this internal sensor hooked up to his Holy Crap alarm, and danged if it doesn't go off daily. J and I both are experts at that most annoying of driving habits where we seem to stop about 15 feet before it's even remotely necessary, then slooowwwly creep forward. The more the car vibrates, the better. Thank goodness it's a stick and has a tranny issue.

As I typed, his royal heiny was cooing and squeeling delightfully ("AhhEEEeeyah...HaiiIIIiii"...and so on.) on his specially designed Gymini baby mat. Operative word: was. I knew we were headed downhill when he started that tried 'n true cry warm-up, " a-HUH!...a-HUH!" with an award winning scowl complete with down-turned drooly mouth.

Now, sadly, I tire of one-handed breastfeeder typing so we'll have to chat more later. Ta-ta. (get it?)