Welcome to the Toddler Dome

This week is my first official week in the toddler class at school. We've been transitioning for the last couple weeks, and I've really taken to it. Being with the older kids (up to 3) really challenges me to grow and discover what I'm capable of--like sitting at a table an focusing on a piece of "work" (e.g., puzzles and sorting beans into cups). It's pretty cool.

As toddlers, our class gets to play in the outdoor playground, and apparently the fresh air brings out the wild side in all of us! Do any of you out there remember that movie with Mel Gibson and Tina Turner? You know, the one in which they live in a post apocalyptic world and Mel is forced to fight a bunch of wild characters for his very survival in a place called the Thunder Dome? Yeah, well in my world that place is called the playground. See for yourself. When Mom and Dad picked me up from school yesterday, this is the face they found.


Can anyone out there identify this mark? Anyone? Yeah, it is a bite mark. One of my friends bit my face on the playground. I think he might have been trying to blind me in one eye. Shew. It's rough out here in the real world.

Before and After: Shave and a Haircut

Well, really just a haircut. Here I am on Sunday morning poking at things with a stick, as one does.

And here I am this morning eating my cereal. Actually, it's Dad's cereal, but what's his is mine...mine, mine, mine!

I read somewhere that first haircuts can be a traumatic experience, and this first haircut was no different. No, not for me, silly. I was eating sweet potatoes, so all was right with the world. It was Mom who was tearing up, poor old thing. Sometimes she is a delicate flower. Maybe she needs some sweet potatoes too.

Potty Mouth

Natty Boh

Dad's special hobby of late has been experimenting with film cameras. Sadly, there's only one place left in town to get film developed, so we save up our film and develop it in mass quantities. Well, we just got a huge batch processed and here's one of my faves.

Those in the Baltimore area will certainly recognize the logo for National Bohemian on my onesie. Personally, I think of myself as more of a natural bohemian. (Special thanks to my aunties Liz and Katherine for the outfit and for always encouraging me to be advanced for my age.)

Sharing is Caring

Oh snap! Has it really been more than two weeks since I last communicated with my adoring public? How embarrassing. You know when there is a lull in my public sphere it is because my private sphere has become, shall we say, crowded. I've once again said goodbye to my Nanna and Pop Pop after a fun (but sadly too short) visit, and I am now on the cusp of a reasonably mellow week. To right-size my absence in the blog-o-sphere I will now attempt to make it rain...blog posts, that is.


Let us begin here, with a video I like to call Sharing Is Caring. And stay tuned for more shenanigans throughout the week.

A Tale of Two Archies

My Nanna walked me to school every day during her last visit. Of course my mom came along with her camera and took these two photos. I can't help but be struck by the difference.

A happy-go-lucky kid, or a thug in a hoodie...TBD. 

Or, as the great Charles Dickens wrote: Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show. Happy Birthday Chuck. You don't look a day over 199.

Wicked Guitar Solo!

No, not me: My Dad! He's super talented at what I like to call abstract flamenco rock. He sure does inspire me to get my groove on.





What can you say to that, but more, more, more...except maybe thanks to my Auntie Jess for my handmade DC flag onesie. End taxation without representation now for all my precious aunties!

Archie Calling

Beware! I'm coming to a phone near you...And I may not be wearing any pants!