Max Goes Bananas

Contrary to the sadness Max displayed when first presented with solid food (see video, below), he has taken quite a shine to the whole eating phenomenon. He is fond of mashed fruit, which grosses out his dad something fierce. Ian videotaped the first food eating, but has since found reasons to be elsewhere when the mashed bananas come out to play. Max has learned to anticipate impending finger-fulls of food, and will open his mouth like a baby bird in expectation.

Max hasn't had a bottle since he was about three months old (he decided he liked breast-milk better), but he has started trying to steal cups or glasses from people who foolishly try to drink things while holding him. In an effort to protect my drink, I put a bit of water in a bottle for Max to mess around with while I hastily guzzled my glassful. While Max was not exactly successful at consuming anything from the bottle, he definitely had the idea that it belonged in the mouth. He's such a genius. (Okay, he also has the idea that the couch cushions, my shirt, anyone's fingers, and the cats' tails also belong in the mouth, but he is still a genius, so pipe down.)

Max Represents the Lollipop Guild

Max, from the moment of his birth, has been blessed with an abundance of charm, sass, and smarts. He was not, however, blessed with an abundance of hair. He has been growing it slowly and with great deliberation for the past six months, and finally has what can, in all honesty, be called a full-fledged tuft. Rather than growing evenly across the head, most of the growth seems to be occurring in the front and center, which has left me longing to gel it up into a cockatoo-like brock. Today, after his bath, Max's hair was all standing on end, and I could no longer resist temptation. I petted it up into a baby mohawk, and before you is the result. I regret nothing.

A Tormented Soul

Max has been displaying a deep aversion recently to being put down to sleep, to play, to give his mom time to pee, etc. At first I thought that the past week of constant visitors, constantly holding him, might have given him the idea that independent play was beneath him. I was reading today, however, about separation anxiety, and I think this psychological phenomenon might be coming into play. Max is especially perturbed when he can't see where I am, and is becoming very skilled (as demonstrated in photo) at making me feel horrible when I have to put him down or leave the room. Oh, well. My hygiene, sleep, and eating aren't that important.

Naked Little Max

So Max was so completely coated in slime after today's banana rations that I could not even bear to carry him into the bedroom to remove his clothing and wipe him down. I nudified him in the living room, and the combination of sweet banana goo and public nakedness proved an elixer of joy that just had to be photographed. I know that he is going to disown me as his mother in about fifteen years for taking this, but it'll be totally worth it.

Max Eats Solid Food

So this event happened about two days ago. In the past few weeks, Chelsa and I have noticed Max has had more and more interest in solid food. Example: Max tried to eat my burger the other night, and almost succeeded in getting away with my Pelegrino. Whenever I am eating really anything, he gives me the big cute eyes that seem to say, "hey, that looks pretty good...got any for Max?". Anyway, Homeboy is ready for solid foods. This is a little video of his first non-breast-milk-based meal: smooth blended banana. I could barely stand to be in the room, it was just that gross. It's just one of the many milestones to fly by right now. More to come...

Our Little Alarm Clock

Back in his carefree youth, Max was a boy who enjoyed sleeping in. He would generally start stirring at around eight or eight thirty, grumble quietly to himself until someone tended to him, and then slowly display readiness to get up and face the day around nine. This coincided beautifully with his parents' schedules, as neither one of us is an early riser. We were, in fact, congratulating ourselves on the unique bond of laziness we all shared. Recently, however, Max has displayed unnatural tendencies to not only wake increasingly early, but to be ready to party immediately when he does. I have tried convincing him to nurse back to sleep, to snuggle back to sleep, anything and everything other than simply resigning myself to getting up. Max has countered with high-pitched singing, peeing the bed, and pulling on his dad's chest or armpit hairs. The other morning, I put him in his little bed to play for a while and tried to doze back to sleep. Through my stupor, I kept hearing this grunting noise, which I tried for a while to ignore. Finally, curiosity made me open my eyes, whereupon I beheld Max, freshly rolled over on his tummy, grinning at me. Look at the gleam in his eye as he learns that, once again, he is too cute to resist, no matter how early the hour.

Max has company

Max had a very busy weekend! We had a blessing ceremony for him on Saturday, and an army of friends and relations came to be with him. Here is Max getting to know his Grandpa Al (my dad from Canada). I think they like each other.


On Sunday, we finally got to meet Max's cousin Joseph, and Max got to spend time with the Tillmans. We all went for a walk to the duck pond by Ian's parents' house, and it was a nice break from the chaos of the week.


Max and his godfather share a deep love of shiny objects, and they are teaching Merritt (seen here with his mom Samantha in fetal form) to join in their appreciation.


Okay, Alyson, I'm very sorry that I a)took your picture and b) posted it on the internet, but you must admit that you are awfully cute!


Max and his cousin Joseph getting aquainted. Max seemed to enjoy Joseph in an eye-poking, head-grabbing sort of way. Joseph kept smiling at Max, which was extremely cute.

Play it again, Max

Well, Max is six months old now, and we figured it was high time we educate him in the arts. We expect him to be a true prodigy in music, literature, and sculpture by the time he starts school. He is already well versed in splatter painting with his own drool, and in singing in a high-pitched, scrabbly voice, so we do not think this an unrealistic goal.

Max got this swing for Christmas, but it needed batteries until about a week and a half ago. I included this picture because 1) it's really cute and 2)so Granny and Gramps, from whom the swing came, could see it in action. I know Max looks dubious here, but he does actually enjoy this contraption.

We are trying to teach Max that it is okay to nap by himself, and he seems to be agreeable, as long as he is put to bed in his mom and dad's bed. Edgar, who claimed this territory as his own long before Max entered the picture, sometimes feels a bit displaced. Generally, he is banned from the room if Max is sleeping, but he has gotten really bad about hiding under the bed and then appearing later, when our guard is down. I came in to check on Max and found, much to my surprise, that he had a nap buddy. They are even lying in the same position, for goodness sake! I let Edgar stay, and found things to do in the bedroom until Max got up. I felt too mean kicking him out when he looked so peaceful.

I know this is the second piano shot, but come on. Who could possibly resist these boys?