tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46425249391459743492024-02-19T04:03:47.652-05:00Insider InfoCommunications from the Womb (and Beyond!)#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-40196406957979834032008-04-30T12:51:00.003-04:002008-05-04T16:28:10.682-04:00Playing with mommyI do love to play. Lilly pays the most attention to me -- maybe because she's not as interested in running around and roughhousing with the older boys -- I can't even imagine when I'll ever be fast enough to keep up with them! No, Lilly suits me much better right now. Although she can be a bit rough, too. Still, I don't mind much. Mom thinks I'm just about the cutest, most interactive baby in the world! And if you ask me, she's right (although I'm not going to be the one to tell her that Ethan, Isaac, and Lilly all went through this phase, too)!<br /><br />Meanwhile, I’m tearing up the house with my walking now, even climbing up stairs now (although descending stairs is entirely another matter). I’m especially good at running around corners in a Kramer-esque sort of way, although I’m not sure he used to drool as much as I do.<br /><br />I got to go camping for the first time a couple of weeks ago! I missed out on some of the activities – I was asleep during the campfire, for instance, but I really loved being in the great outdoors all the time! Mama and yeye were kind enough to give us their big tent, and there was enough room in there for dad, Ethan, Isaac, me, AND my portacrib! Of course, my blankets weren’t warm enough and in the middle of the night dad had to put me in his sleeping bag to keep me warm. I pretty much took over the sleeping bag from there, pushing dad off the foam pad onto the ground – I was pretty comfortable, but dad probably didn’t sleep very well!<br /><br />Mom loves how interactive I’m starting to get – my favorite games involve gesturing and vocalizing (clapping, cupping my ears, saying “dada” on cue), making loud sounds for no apparent reason, and being chased around the house. Everyone finds my funny sounds and gestures are so endearing!<br /><br /><embed id="VideoPlayback" style="width:400px;height:326px" flashvars="" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docid=-1167530936841240276&hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"> </embed>#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-1036951585427897432008-03-23T20:49:00.003-04:002008-03-24T22:28:23.836-04:00A Whole New World<embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=-6033333612544722866&hl=en" flashvars=""> </embed><br />Whoo hoo! I'm starting to be able to walk! Still takes a lot of effort, but it's so fun to have my head up so high! Of course, the more I try, the more my baby fat melts away, much to mom's chagrin. No more "Baby James" for me -- "Toddler James," here we come!#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-55129767016249204462007-12-29T14:09:00.000-05:002007-12-29T14:11:09.598-05:00My First ChristmasMmmm, yummy lights. Mmmm, yummy carpet. Mmmm, yummy wrapping paper. Mmmm, yummy toys. (I love Christmas!)<br /><br />Merry Christmas!<br /><br /><embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=8536353804030808872&hl=en" flashvars=""> </embed>#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-29805027057485983992007-11-04T20:57:00.000-05:002007-11-04T21:00:33.424-05:00I Can Fly, I Can Fly, I Can Fly!Okay, fine, so maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration. But at least I can sit now! Next thing you know, I'll be crawling! Whoo hoo!<br /><br /><embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=7731762079405902997&hl=en" flashvars=""> </embed><br /><br />Somewhere along the line, I also picked up this nasty habit -- although mom and dad (dad especially) are glad to report that I don't indulge much (yet?).<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/tangcs/NewAlbum11407557PM/photo#5129124163816284466"><img src="http://lh3.google.com/tangcs/Ry5PQHEkYTI/AAAAAAAAATk/pZ1CUx0Ndt8/s400/DSC04165.JPG" /></a>#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-74394978618975860062007-10-01T22:06:00.001-04:002008-12-09T05:39:42.368-05:00Tree Trunks<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrp6M58X94dF-tu0pIUlbJihjCVv293mf_zzvNzDMY5ecozIMSeHy-kj9EupYXBmEB6R9t8qBcVmW5N3mIBXmpW3gDKHOmvCJ7nHv_WwyJLpcfiEV9fVUGWUi2XE4J6nOJIJOmcPTOsZI/s1600-h/DSC04144.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrp6M58X94dF-tu0pIUlbJihjCVv293mf_zzvNzDMY5ecozIMSeHy-kj9EupYXBmEB6R9t8qBcVmW5N3mIBXmpW3gDKHOmvCJ7nHv_WwyJLpcfiEV9fVUGWUi2XE4J6nOJIJOmcPTOsZI/s400/DSC04144.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116555471331182450" /></a><br />Aww yeah, look at those tree trunks -- tipping the scales at 21 lbs. ("off the charts" in relation to my height, or so my doctor exclaimed), I'm a definite linebacker in the making!#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-57570052410597748722007-09-02T23:05:00.001-04:002007-09-02T23:20:41.090-04:00Yum yum!So in the last month I graduated from straight formula to supplementation with rice cereal, followed by bananas and now even to avocado and sweet potatoes! Mmm, mmm. This video here isn't my first try at eating solid foods, but better late than never, I suppose. And for those of you who aren't my Mama, feel free to skip through it -- it's a solid 9:16 of watching me eat!<br /><br /><embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=-3209122683487765904&hl=en-CA" flashvars=""> </embed>#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-23911454361110714562007-07-08T20:35:00.001-04:002007-09-02T23:47:53.853-04:00Sweetly SingsA couple of months ago, I made a new best friend when dad and mom's GPR resident friends came over for dinner. Nick Seaboyer, April's fiance, brought his guitar over and gave me a personal concert to help put me to sleep. He's was so nice to me -- made up a song right on the spot for me and everything! I mean, how cool is that?<br /><br /><embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=9214934673664493938&hl=en-CA" flashvars=""> </embed>#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-24127268737414814302007-07-08T17:30:00.001-04:002008-12-09T05:39:42.900-05:00James and the Giant Head<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyE09-wJKA0dVD7XfFx0n4hwflb06IbMq0e7uWGZxT2W4gVa1shBZpt2-GnQgFoGoNebjyhGptVE9bK5qfZtdi2A3TVSJCHcvkYrGUpRVRzOYxoB2A1aJXINgxK8KQNpv2eF5y-jTRO9U/s1600-h/Edmonton+40.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyE09-wJKA0dVD7XfFx0n4hwflb06IbMq0e7uWGZxT2W4gVa1shBZpt2-GnQgFoGoNebjyhGptVE9bK5qfZtdi2A3TVSJCHcvkYrGUpRVRzOYxoB2A1aJXINgxK8KQNpv2eF5y-jTRO9U/s400/Edmonton+40.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084946827710322386" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_uToZg-A5i9FQn0jjRBOdPLF0PjWZTjCigGMurHuxaEmRTfg6079hSwD5jaAXJuTed2tWpSJC5st_1b7VpF3m1RTsdIOXbZBFW5sPC1h2J1nNqw5RZiWXi2MXm4yctYUR2KrBxG8IXn4/s1600-h/IMG_0144.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_uToZg-A5i9FQn0jjRBOdPLF0PjWZTjCigGMurHuxaEmRTfg6079hSwD5jaAXJuTed2tWpSJC5st_1b7VpF3m1RTsdIOXbZBFW5sPC1h2J1nNqw5RZiWXi2MXm4yctYUR2KrBxG8IXn4/s400/IMG_0144.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084958359697512178" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2plpjV8SoIOYAo1lGi5-krRd-akB5iKqmmdiJtlVD0IcaIX2vxqFrn8IlFvDvSTJz8js3AQ7DoiRjeseKzy4inrSjdFgC1kyOzG-JeYd3zHUuzornHWzXxGkuB0SEqzUeVojBuFOxde8/s1600-h/DSC02437.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2plpjV8SoIOYAo1lGi5-krRd-akB5iKqmmdiJtlVD0IcaIX2vxqFrn8IlFvDvSTJz8js3AQ7DoiRjeseKzy4inrSjdFgC1kyOzG-JeYd3zHUuzornHWzXxGkuB0SEqzUeVojBuFOxde8/s400/DSC02437.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084946797645551250" /></a><br />As you can see, eating + sleeping = big chunk. In other words, I'm definitely growing. Everyone at the last two family reunions I attended -- Tangs and Baileys -- were impressed at what a big baby I am. I may not look much like dad in the face, but at my age, dad was getting a lot of the same comments. In fact, people used to say he would turn out to be a football player for sure, he was so chunky. If you know my dad, you'll know how differently he turned out, so who knows what I'll look like in a few years?<br /><br />The past few weeks, although tumultuous for the rest of the family, have all been part and parcel for me -- what do I know differently anyhow? Relatives coming out of my ears, enough time spent in my carseat to make a person sick of traveling for life, plane trips, and through it all, the constancy of mom, my bottle, and my sweet dreams.<br /><br />Here's a clip of yehyeh and I making friends when he came to visit in Edmonton:<br /><br /><embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=3830680132397990262&hl=en-CA" flashvars=""> </embed>#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-91754614953828932772007-05-19T12:03:00.000-04:002008-12-09T05:39:43.093-05:00I can smile!The other day mom took the boys to the park while Lilly went to a birthday party. I went on the slide with mom for the first time -- possibly the funnest experience I have ever had up until now -- just check out the excited expression on my face as we go down!<br /><br /><embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=8768287331304261981&hl=en-CA" flashvars=""> </embed><br />Actually, Mom's believed in my smiling for a while now but dad has been a little more skeptical. This photo proves it -- how cute!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8DUDikDYuH-r-NkPNQICillfIy3XTM4dFPAKGtbzOy6dSOusu-TvPtW54fAhyphenhyphen6aoxKIixwTrribOtDPCA9ykHsAr9FpBBsso3_gx6m-uhQTTihwGRPaftaegX8oXgYaZyqDQPg2uzcRw/s1600-h/DSC03110.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8DUDikDYuH-r-NkPNQICillfIy3XTM4dFPAKGtbzOy6dSOusu-TvPtW54fAhyphenhyphen6aoxKIixwTrribOtDPCA9ykHsAr9FpBBsso3_gx6m-uhQTTihwGRPaftaegX8oXgYaZyqDQPg2uzcRw/s400/DSC03110.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066304331747651058" /></a>#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-75137697040464353982007-05-15T21:26:00.000-04:002008-12-09T05:39:43.260-05:00Michelin James<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9oFFm1846VSLwtxKNY3UxKlmPw7J6lQmTRVzCQF0zWJuwQyPNI9wNKs0DX_ltP2h-daUApNdhg5OQoxHxH9aU5Gem_hAUtzTG6JQknlx2KhunP-kxb-kSXIOcXReISR9Q2OZljy1C1nQ/s1600-h/michelin+james.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9oFFm1846VSLwtxKNY3UxKlmPw7J6lQmTRVzCQF0zWJuwQyPNI9wNKs0DX_ltP2h-daUApNdhg5OQoxHxH9aU5Gem_hAUtzTG6JQknlx2KhunP-kxb-kSXIOcXReISR9Q2OZljy1C1nQ/s400/michelin+james.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064963928289144290" /></a><br />Hey, does anyone know where I can get a baby-sized man-ssiere (AKA "the bro")?#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-15828031526356830252007-05-10T00:36:00.000-04:002008-12-09T05:39:43.741-05:00In Which I Try to Please MamaIn order to please mama's insatiable appetite for new pictures of my growing self, I present to you... well, me!<br /><br />BIG CHEEKS<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYB-LHNCKuTxagFdkxU0P8kYJZ6bfoWbgAO20AmWpU7d5d8W95_rNruOM35VkN2nldSivPqAhpCeets0Wj73EH9rGEncE2AWgVv8A43MqQDSxb8BKGPWboUkcSJ8LREFLtT5PUAkQUnrc/s1600-h/DSC02969.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYB-LHNCKuTxagFdkxU0P8kYJZ6bfoWbgAO20AmWpU7d5d8W95_rNruOM35VkN2nldSivPqAhpCeets0Wj73EH9rGEncE2AWgVv8A43MqQDSxb8BKGPWboUkcSJ8LREFLtT5PUAkQUnrc/s320/DSC02969.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062788433545037234" /></a><br />DOUBLE CHIN<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiG5SZJp_2l8LEA8plbU6pwKR_qLKjrl7mX5PIRGPlGpYZPnAq3aFu6p156MnQtBe4UK2oQ0hmXyvNQ_V319XlHck2yl65N5lPwnQqWggkzqP2zGa73taRLkkZotSYcTKLn3IGzIBC7aM/s1600-h/DSC02966.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiG5SZJp_2l8LEA8plbU6pwKR_qLKjrl7mX5PIRGPlGpYZPnAq3aFu6p156MnQtBe4UK2oQ0hmXyvNQ_V319XlHck2yl65N5lPwnQqWggkzqP2zGa73taRLkkZotSYcTKLn3IGzIBC7aM/s320/DSC02966.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062788429250069922" /></a><br />CRAZY EYES<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjULFUpeVDKJlEhpO7gUTDBxHJymk6WO9aCD64sTgHJwMsdFdwq142dgQvF167z87A9cntILIoBPZCoXCy6Lo-Pp1j8ZdZlwASqvv4XTAoBHfoqml1BG7ZE8SpJZbi7CgaLQsTRmBzCxtk/s1600-h/DSC02945.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjULFUpeVDKJlEhpO7gUTDBxHJymk6WO9aCD64sTgHJwMsdFdwq142dgQvF167z87A9cntILIoBPZCoXCy6Lo-Pp1j8ZdZlwASqvv4XTAoBHfoqml1BG7ZE8SpJZbi7CgaLQsTRmBzCxtk/s320/DSC02945.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062788420660135314" /></a>#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-17352695436843679232007-05-04T02:01:00.000-04:002008-12-09T05:39:43.971-05:00Hefty Baby<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcAI0JHVlDxDmWYepAFQXQvUhnbBz1QgPmFd4Clefb-Ape3BqnpDSp42AV7Q09YzwN1y_SP7xs9-ijRNJHyCELK2DNe_31Oo7rtbmOnw4ALm1FKg5iOSTgWKnDl7gpqe79N1nqz_NG7kU/s1600-h/DSC02884.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcAI0JHVlDxDmWYepAFQXQvUhnbBz1QgPmFd4Clefb-Ape3BqnpDSp42AV7Q09YzwN1y_SP7xs9-ijRNJHyCELK2DNe_31Oo7rtbmOnw4ALm1FKg5iOSTgWKnDl7gpqe79N1nqz_NG7kU/s400/DSC02884.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060582126024951170" /></a><br />And, tipping the scales at 10+ lbs... introducing Baby James!! (applause and cheering please). Alright, alright, so 10 lbs. isn't exactly mammoth, but if you consider that Cousin Ashlyn took over six months to make 10 lbs. (granted, she lost some weight when she was sick), it's a much bigger accomplishment than you might think. I've got a ways to go before I catch up with Andersen, but even so, the doctor (not to mention mom and dad) was quite impressed by my growth!<br /><br />I'm a pretty strong baby, too -- always kicking out with my feet and struggling to keep my head up and steady. It's a tough workout, but it's paying off as every day I get closer to independence. 6 weeks down, 982 to go!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2vqGFbmydGtkIgi1WyX4qkiCMrQMIi87kELZx46VV-IBRDZbQrSM8C5f72IEIweZ90-OCgZH8tkUdnVqoEE9RzbPThBxLdmDXJiVYQ-sHf_olTmvRJhyqIkA87Nx7wwIcRrTClNA9kfI/s1600-h/DSC02855.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2vqGFbmydGtkIgi1WyX4qkiCMrQMIi87kELZx46VV-IBRDZbQrSM8C5f72IEIweZ90-OCgZH8tkUdnVqoEE9RzbPThBxLdmDXJiVYQ-sHf_olTmvRJhyqIkA87Nx7wwIcRrTClNA9kfI/s400/DSC02855.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060582121729983858" /></a>#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-21717602689334582007-04-03T01:01:00.000-04:002008-12-09T05:39:44.056-05:00My SweaterMy ever-so-crafty mother knitted this beautiful cardigan for me to wear to church on Sundays -- started it before I was born, even. I love the color -- a beautiful Carolina blue with a fancy pattern of argyles knit into the bottom half. Look how well it fits me! To think she only started knitting a couple of months ago, and now... this! Very cute and baby boyish, wouldn't you agree?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJbSaXrAntkk6kORpAhij02X6Fg-Fxw8ZuhHHGUc9e4GIXIAKkFVY_v4M0lmKEfcJa4S4RB1GIDgmdDuSk9P5Dy4jgHKByTdZmREs7TAq43_LChnvkaSbH4SN6vwO-C5ZSBaxy0qcvj_Y/s1600-h/DSC02539.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJbSaXrAntkk6kORpAhij02X6Fg-Fxw8ZuhHHGUc9e4GIXIAKkFVY_v4M0lmKEfcJa4S4RB1GIDgmdDuSk9P5Dy4jgHKByTdZmREs7TAq43_LChnvkaSbH4SN6vwO-C5ZSBaxy0qcvj_Y/s400/DSC02539.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049062816989658578" /></a><br />P.S. Speaking of Carolina, having just left His presence, I think I can say with some authority that God <i>is</i> indeed a Tar Heel, and that <i>is</i> why He made the sky Carolina blue!#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-70126189842622702072007-04-01T23:03:00.000-04:002008-12-09T05:39:44.427-05:00My Dad<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT8wHwRWi26GPcEl2qIun3QsKfn4QZQQa7IdEA7ZhfHsctj13S3QCmI7nMxaQ_9YIIv9eZwKstsYXgQY_jPk_ZSG-I31e9gASQRr4EW6LyRqQ_q6ww2EUoAJuV8fos5hvb0PLrorPJdPk/s1600-h/DSC02511.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT8wHwRWi26GPcEl2qIun3QsKfn4QZQQa7IdEA7ZhfHsctj13S3QCmI7nMxaQ_9YIIv9eZwKstsYXgQY_jPk_ZSG-I31e9gASQRr4EW6LyRqQ_q6ww2EUoAJuV8fos5hvb0PLrorPJdPk/s400/DSC02511.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048661615504604578" /></a>Considering the wondering expression on my face in this photo, the proper title of this post probably should be "My Dad?" As in "Who's that?" Which really isn't that far from the truth, to be honest, since I spend ~22 hours a day asleep and the rest of the time nursing (~100 minutes a day if you assume 10 times a day, 10 minutes per time) Happily, my jaundice is slowly clearing up, so maybe there'll be a little more awake and available time in my day soon enough!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkmq_wtr5kBm2dTvzOm_a7za7OcwQepjsAd1zMOHsWn4iQZ4sfwClq9ZHbto-W0OG5tTWYqnxzZA03pVt8NKpsqkoyyz-a_SAGLTDcxUnLofYrot75xx9KGUthyphenhyphenIiw51qIadb62cCvALg/s1600-h/DSC02515.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkmq_wtr5kBm2dTvzOm_a7za7OcwQepjsAd1zMOHsWn4iQZ4sfwClq9ZHbto-W0OG5tTWYqnxzZA03pVt8NKpsqkoyyz-a_SAGLTDcxUnLofYrot75xx9KGUthyphenhyphenIiw51qIadb62cCvALg/s400/DSC02515.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048661628389506482" /></a>#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-3413889140865225422007-04-01T01:07:00.000-04:002007-04-01T01:12:15.418-04:00Baby Gaa.. No Longer...<embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" align="middle" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=8640982337297998772&hl=en-CA" quality="best" bgcolor="#ffffff" scale="noScale" salign="TL" FlashVars="playerMode=embedded"> </embed><br /><br />Isaac has promoted me to a full-fledged person -- I'm officially Baby James now, Baby Gaa no longer! (quick, what movie?)#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-36864851250750883062007-03-29T23:51:00.000-04:002008-12-09T05:39:44.511-05:00Sunbathing<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3wy0-mNXhQzhGjaMGC-jGxmUnx4LJUpNZLxc8kOKmXNZfMF56DwUYg0bVOjsNyW8U6p5QtHm5q8QfcrQbbGco0D_IuEhfZ-2PifFQu9AzemHzerj_TazgvXV-pG04cgeh-Rlv6pzZMMA/s1600-h/DSC02495.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3wy0-mNXhQzhGjaMGC-jGxmUnx4LJUpNZLxc8kOKmXNZfMF56DwUYg0bVOjsNyW8U6p5QtHm5q8QfcrQbbGco0D_IuEhfZ-2PifFQu9AzemHzerj_TazgvXV-pG04cgeh-Rlv6pzZMMA/s400/DSC02495.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047560656472849810" /></a><br />I sunbathe 10-20 minutes every day, but for quite the opposite reason that you might imagine. You see, because I'm mildy jaundiced, instead of sunbathing to get darker, I'm actually sunbathing to get lighter. The nurses suggest letting me sleep close to an window for a little while each day, as well as making sure I'm nursing and pooping as much as I'm supposed to (one of the side effects of jaundice is a tendency to sleep through regular nursing times, which is counterproductive to getting rid of the bilirubin that's causing the jaundice). I get daily checks from the nurses (over the phone) to make sure I'm improving, which I feel like I am. I should be all better by 10-14 days old -- just about there!#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-83868334529935662062007-03-28T22:22:00.000-04:002007-03-28T22:25:25.738-04:00Who's Baby Gaa?So after careful observation over the past week, Isaac finally decided the other day I'm safe enough to hold. I thought he was quite gentle touch... my only question: Who's Baby Gaa?<br /><br /><embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" align="middle" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=8963288260652254186&hl=en-CA" quality="best" bgcolor="#ffffff" scale="noScale" salign="TL" FlashVars="playerMode=embedded"> </embed>#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-87720965951443387702007-03-28T02:05:00.000-04:002008-12-09T05:39:44.851-05:00My First Bath<embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" align="middle" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=-5086165988703829860&hl=en-CA" quality="best" bgcolor="#ffffff" scale="noScale" salign="TL" FlashVars="playerMode=embedded"> </embed><br /><br />This may have been my first bath at home (in a kitchen sink, no less!), but really it was my second bath, if you include the one the nurse gave me in the hospital. As you can tell, it was a rather traumatic experience -- enough so that just writing about it now is reevoking some of the terror I experienced. I may have to take a bath, but I reserve the right not to be happy about it!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEietc0XYSBG7IKmU2iq1zA_hwRVb-bQQe7z1RjlvzefbR15uut6aaLNjCXqk2PjAjFTEBlyyrOwVizP_U80WbeDBGyKD3V8nRaihyG4AdMY6k2RmjVeAmnjxYYlk7Oz2QMV9UYTbdhQsIw/s1600-h/DSC02493.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEietc0XYSBG7IKmU2iq1zA_hwRVb-bQQe7z1RjlvzefbR15uut6aaLNjCXqk2PjAjFTEBlyyrOwVizP_U80WbeDBGyKD3V8nRaihyG4AdMY6k2RmjVeAmnjxYYlk7Oz2QMV9UYTbdhQsIw/s400/DSC02493.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046853769280437618" /></a>#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-59552194642373036072007-03-27T01:11:00.000-04:002008-12-09T05:39:45.020-05:00Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader? (or Uncle Jason, for that matter!)Q: What is in Baby James's bellybutton?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4TBHwE90vJSPXizWpVoSoZyRV5LD4U6OkcEpUfZunRC75U0XgDv5dU44XvqeFMSxyWwZXP5NzaDVrrMurNVFGE_i9-3qHGu2RfS-K0zIZvr0cb4dmM3atqeNgXjopH1pYgLSars-KOWE/s1600-h/DSC02456.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4TBHwE90vJSPXizWpVoSoZyRV5LD4U6OkcEpUfZunRC75U0XgDv5dU44XvqeFMSxyWwZXP5NzaDVrrMurNVFGE_i9-3qHGu2RfS-K0zIZvr0cb4dmM3atqeNgXjopH1pYgLSars-KOWE/s400/DSC02456.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046468576333725714" /></a><br />(Hint: Definitely NOT a raisin!)#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-68940909496506928342007-03-25T20:52:00.000-04:002008-12-09T05:39:45.108-05:00Where Oh Where Has My Balloon Gone?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm5IysIGsw84cQiPV4kmew3O1J1foKjUzHZQuN7f362KIneMkWqTmuiWBQMGoP6Q1AVH7pZgdSdRuaDE1z1M_Ch13ZG6eaWhg-HXwFr1OaMc-mDsPnoX2XQWzwAeQvda4420pzKZAJwY8/s1600-h/DSC02458.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm5IysIGsw84cQiPV4kmew3O1J1foKjUzHZQuN7f362KIneMkWqTmuiWBQMGoP6Q1AVH7pZgdSdRuaDE1z1M_Ch13ZG6eaWhg-HXwFr1OaMc-mDsPnoX2XQWzwAeQvda4420pzKZAJwY8/s400/DSC02458.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046030834342220130" /></a><br />I had my first outing today to church -- I slept through it all, so I didn't notice all the moms who came to admire me. Everyone agreed I look smaller than my 7 lbs. 3 oz. birthweight would suggest. Small but cute, of course! <br /><br />That's really besides the point, though -- the important news of the day is about my balloons. When I first came home, Ethan, Isaac, and Lilly informed me they had each picked out a welcome home balloon to hang above my basket/bassinet -- one of Pooh Bear, one of Finding Nemo and one of Dora the Explorer. Thing is, I've never seen the Finding Nemo balloon, but felt to ask would be rude. Anyhow, the mystery has been solved -- I happened to look up into the tree branches beside Apartment Canada as I was being brought home from church, and voila!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEi9jXjWYL0_CfxDYUfRaR0TVeUUQ_6jxoew4ISXFq0vnjfm9uzq-xYwVjz2QAAlmPIYK0VNRsfqFGoXrChUbDKQY5xANrpeOhoIY7kMs8N3nCqcTD8fWLxGCNciVtk53y6ahDTtm1MYw/s1600-h/DSC02462.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEi9jXjWYL0_CfxDYUfRaR0TVeUUQ_6jxoew4ISXFq0vnjfm9uzq-xYwVjz2QAAlmPIYK0VNRsfqFGoXrChUbDKQY5xANrpeOhoIY7kMs8N3nCqcTD8fWLxGCNciVtk53y6ahDTtm1MYw/s400/DSC02462.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046030825752285522" /></a>#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-53105070183188430032007-03-24T16:46:00.000-04:002008-12-09T05:39:45.244-05:00My Introduction to Real Life<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRmtzHyo5Uxia1dTocqsVeX8su209X1hthgpjlsRbKteKUbesULim-so8v_N3t-STeN1uiv63PkmAtzd2JZD75V0dn12hz3a5VuDtBHfdSSInqjwoe-uckTClWYhQNVDGL3VLUGWMTM5Q/s1600-h/DSC02432.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRmtzHyo5Uxia1dTocqsVeX8su209X1hthgpjlsRbKteKUbesULim-so8v_N3t-STeN1uiv63PkmAtzd2JZD75V0dn12hz3a5VuDtBHfdSSInqjwoe-uckTClWYhQNVDGL3VLUGWMTM5Q/s400/DSC02432.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045598051962638594" /></a>You know, until this morning, I don't think I realized just how sheltered I've been. During a momentary period of awareness this morning, I was introduced one by one to each of my brothers and sisters, who (for the most part) ooed and aaed over me for a few chaotic minutes. I didn't fuss much or anything, but I definitely was glad enough to be taken back to my room for some peace and quiet after not too long!#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-16432551556790800772007-03-24T01:33:00.000-04:002007-03-24T01:43:04.654-04:00Playing with Mommy<embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" align="middle" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=5695495025377527708&hl=en-CA" quality="best" bgcolor="#ffffff" scale="noScale" salign="TL" FlashVars="playerMode=embedded"> </embed><br /><br />Don't knock my "playing" -- this is all I can manage right now, you know! Over the past 24 hours, I've had my eyes open a total of about 15 minutes, which, over four days, averages out to a lifetime total of maybe an hour? The rest of the time, I'm either sleeping or eating (which, as far as daddy can tell, counts as sleep-eating anyhow). What a life!#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-30521096204242003572007-03-24T01:26:00.000-04:002008-12-09T05:39:45.441-05:00My Two FeetSurvey Question (please answer in the comments section):<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijcO9e5TISZE3S-aglEWaf8jGo5CP_dx08veuD-GEVCLRAbR-0W16CG8nnc-EvrqfmcKHHVMo8uZ6YF4Y7H9oJ7rF7YPQc0QjfdelrpMmhyphenhyphen1dD830x-JWrgnMRXZdgEWlyHpK9n4GlAmo/s1600-h/DSC02426.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijcO9e5TISZE3S-aglEWaf8jGo5CP_dx08veuD-GEVCLRAbR-0W16CG8nnc-EvrqfmcKHHVMo8uZ6YF4Y7H9oJ7rF7YPQc0QjfdelrpMmhyphenhyphen1dD830x-JWrgnMRXZdgEWlyHpK9n4GlAmo/s400/DSC02426.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045358663370461410" /></a><br />1. Does this photo remind you of:<br /><br />a) chicken legs<br />b) Daddy's legs<br />c) the Wicked Witch of the East's legs (minus ruby slippers!)#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-12033983967608245962007-03-23T00:30:00.000-04:002008-12-09T05:39:45.721-05:00"What, the baby doesn't know it's in a box!"<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGQQrg5SqbBY1KV4QyIG5Vf25QJaaLS8U_gFM0zIPEs1MIKXKPPN9ANKSEs5pJvO4qv9bNCmf3UYYA1BFiE9iry-5h6XqY2hj7N2SEfRbKTn7W8qWVo6o-S87WJgRdk9ICrrxcCpEHrs0/s1600-h/DSC02419.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGQQrg5SqbBY1KV4QyIG5Vf25QJaaLS8U_gFM0zIPEs1MIKXKPPN9ANKSEs5pJvO4qv9bNCmf3UYYA1BFiE9iry-5h6XqY2hj7N2SEfRbKTn7W8qWVo6o-S87WJgRdk9ICrrxcCpEHrs0/s400/DSC02419.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044972618824995010" /></a><br />This from the same oh-so-quotable woman who at various times has been known to say: "What, I'm holding the book!" and "His name is Andrew, Dick!" and "You're not spiritual enough to be an Institute Teacher!" and "Do you even like girls?" and "IF you get married!" and "Oh, so how was your day?" (you had to be there for that one) and "They did an experiment on my bum!" This woman is my mama, and I have her to thank for my current accommodations in a laundry basket! But, teasing aside, she's right -- I don't know, and I don't mind! In fact, I feel privileged to be following in the footsteps of my older brother, Isaac, who also spent the first part of his life sleeping in this very same laundry basket! Given the space restrictions in our small apartment, it really works out for the best -- I'm quite content!#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642524939145974349.post-59543265475685082462007-03-23T00:01:00.000-04:002008-12-09T05:39:45.944-05:00Call me Tang... James TangWell, quite the debate had been raging over the past few days as to what my name should be, with suggestions ranging from Baby Gaa and Baby Bugooglio (both Isaac's suggestions), Baby Lilly II and Baby Ethan II (both Ethan's suggestions), and Baby Unnhhh (Lilly's suggestion), to more conventional names like Jacob, Joel, Jaden/Jadon, Jared/Jarett, and James. Mom and dad finally settled on a name though, and I'm just glad it's not Bugooglio Tang. Poochie IV no longer, you can call me Tang... James Tang. (And incidentally, my middle name is Courtney, after my Grandpa Bailey's first name.) Whatever you do, just don't call me Jim -- this means you, Richard "Dick" Barker!<br /><br /><embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=4731302774867005694&hl=en-CA" flashvars=""> </embed><br /><br />Mom was released today from the hospital, less than 48 hours post-surgery. Hurrah, I got to go home earlier than I expected!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkaFjRNQho2LLwdzaelHkXC-d4KVEO09PHD5Ggf1sUJwru_fi4ejPNciggw3Y4KUPgi9_wXPXf4XjLUv8cBMmekaw6esLHZWvhIW6DCwvQE_N3SG_jhjDkJb_zkDUdIUL5KFf5Xu8uTNk/s1600-h/jamescarseat.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkaFjRNQho2LLwdzaelHkXC-d4KVEO09PHD5Ggf1sUJwru_fi4ejPNciggw3Y4KUPgi9_wXPXf4XjLUv8cBMmekaw6esLHZWvhIW6DCwvQE_N3SG_jhjDkJb_zkDUdIUL5KFf5Xu8uTNk/s400/jamescarseat.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044968383987241138" /></a><br />So, at around noon today, I was put in my oversize carseat (or maybe I'm just undersized?) and mom and I were whisked home by dad (accompanied by Ethan and Isaac). After dropping us off at home, dad promptly drove to the University to go to work for the afternoon, leaving my brothers and sister at various babysitters along the way so mom could continue recuperating in peace and quiet. Good thing, because as soon as they got home later that evening, the whole house was filled with the sounds of toddlers working their way through "the witching hour," as mom and dad call it. Noisy! Not that I noticed, honestly. In the two and a half days since I was born, dad still hasn't actually seen me awake with my eyes open (although mom assures him I can open my eyes), and even the great wailings of my brothers and sister (especially the sister) weren't enough to make a difference! I guess I just like my sleep!#15http://www.blogger.com/profile/17957253697488582637noreply@blogger.com3