Today Blackbird is two months old, and I’m surprising myself at how much nostalgia one can pack into such a short time. Alisa and I are also fascinated by how much growth and change Blackbird can fit in there. She’s gone from being a little cooing lump to becoming… a demanding little lump.
She’s already a curious and self-reliant little bugger, always looking around and demanding a good view. She loves to sit up (with our hands for support) and is on the cusp of giving us some wonderful baby laughter. As it stands, I’m perfectly happy chasing those little smiles.
The rest of this post contains quite a few photos, so if you’re on a low-bandwidth connection, beware.
LOOK AT THEM. LOOK AT THE CUTE.
Blackbird’s first trip to The Trolleycar Diner went quite well.
Blackbird, like most babies these days, has to sleep on her back, so we need to give her ‘tummy time’. She doesn’t seem to care for it much, but I suspect it’s because she finds it so difficult to get any purchase with her legs. Once those arms strengthen up, she’s going to be crawling up a storm. She already has a strong independent streak, like her mom. You can see her little legs working in this photo.
Uncle Larry meets Blackbird for the first time. Notice her sense of ease and calm. The man is smooth with the ladies.
This is what I wake up to. This little face. Everyone should get to play before they go to work.
Blackbird dictates her thoughts on global credit markets and their influence on the development of contemporary indigenous art forms in Central and South America.
Tummy time is for everyone.
Blackbird’s not big on her basket, but once she relents in her endless struggle against the tyranny of sleep, she’s cool with it. She likes sleeping on her side, which also increases her objectively measurable cuteness by 17%.
Some people just aren’t quite sure where they fall on the hoodie issue. Blackbird is still deliberating, clearly.
While sleep sacks make it trickier to hold Blackbird, they are hard to beat for their adorable qualities. Anything that brings your child closer to being an inchworm is hard to pass up.
I challenge you to deny this face anything. I will be a poor father and she will be the only girl with a helicopter for her pony.
You try denying her that pony helicopter. I can’t.
A game of Little Piggies is about to break out.
Look at that! Look at her sitting up like that. Next step: learning to type for Daddy.
It’s moments like this that keep me going… keep me going in my mission to teach Blackbird how to blow up the rock.
Post-meal deep relaxation.
I would pay to have her Boppy outfitted with wheels and a remote control.
I love this hairstyle, courtesy of Alisa.
I was never this cool. But that’s Blackbird’s way. She can be stylish even while cross-eyed and half asleep.
Lest you think life with Blackbird is all peaches and cream.
OK, it’s mostly peaches and cream. Particularly when she’s doing things like this.
I can’t pull off the wide-eyed, open-mouthed wonder look like Blackbird can. But we have fun anyway. At least I think she’s having fun here…