Love those Banana Slugs

Last week was my Mom's birthday (sorry to guilt all those readers who forgot...) and as a present, my Dad gave her...a night away from me?? What's with that? I've heard that lots of parents like to celebrate by leaving their kids with someone else and escaping for a while...but how do they think that makes us feel? Do they think we don't realize what's going on? Just because I'm still not sure that the image in the mirror that looks like me and moves like me and drools like me is actually me doesn't mean I'm an idiot!

Also in honor of my mom's birthday, we went away for someone else's birthday this weekend, my parents' friend, Patrick. I like Patrick a lot. He makes me laugh, probably because he has a beard and bearded people look funny to me. For example, the old Radovan Karadzic was scary. He had no beard.

The new Radovan Karadzic with the white beard? He's funny! In fact, he kind of looks like a Monchichi, or the dad from Teen Wolf when he changes to a wolf near the end to make his son understand that he's not alone...sniff...uh oh, I'm getting verklempt!

We went down south to Santa Cruz, which many people will remember was on the t-shirt that John Travolta's character in Pulp Fiction was wearing after he was hosed down by The Wolf. I thought the entire city had converted to a big t-shirt factory after that movie, riding on the wave of publicity it afforded. But apparently most people in Santa Cruz ride on other, actual waves.

Santa Cruz was very bohemian and trendy. In fact, Santa Cruz was everything I thought Berkeley would be when I first visited Berkeley, but the town of long-haired anti-war demonstrations and the original Peet's Coffee store (yum!) has become uber-yuppified - so much so that Jack Kerouac's ghost has probably wafted down to Santa Cruz.

Here's me and my dad at the famous Santa Cruz Boardwalk. That's me in the hiking backpack, my most favorit-est place on earth!!:







My parents took me for my first trip to the ocean! Clever readers will recognize that my home town of San Francisco is, in fact, on the same ocean, and ask why my parents had to drive 2 hours south for my first ocean experience. Short answer is that SF's beach is nasty. Those of you who have visited it totally feel me. Indeed. That was my best impression of Omar from The Wire. Yes, I watch The Wire. All babies fear Baltimore.

Funny thing about the Pacific Ocean in northern California...IT'S FREAKING COLD!! Even with my chubby...ahem, healthy...little feet, the cold went straight through to my bones. We didn't get it on video, but when the surf rolled slowly at my feet, I was like "ooh, i love water. put it in a sippy cup!" But when it hit my feet, I was like "waaaaaaaah. this must be what antarctica is like!" How do thin fish deal with an ocean like this?

OK, on to some political news. In the last week, Barack got back from his middle east tour, during which time John McCain actually got funny. I have to admit I just plain loved the quip he gave that Barack's attitude towards Iraq was the "audacity of hopelessness." Score one for McCain's writers.

But you have to applaud Barack for taking a no-win situation and executing it well. A flawless trip to the center of the war on terror wasn't going to win any votes...but any slip-ups were sure losers. And according to the 67,253 people in the media that followed him everywhere he went, he came off ok. Even the prayer he put in Jerusalem's western wall was a winner. But my advice to Barack on this one: next time you're in the holiest of places - a site where it's said that messages go straight to God's ear, provided they're crumpled up and stuck in a 2,000-year-old crevice - ask for something that you'll enjoy. Like a Wii programmed so that you always beat the computer, but you don't know it's programmed that way, so you always feel like a champion. Or for a billion dollar lottery win. Or maybe to be President?

It got me to thinking, what would I put onto a slip of paper to stuff into the Western Wall. First, it would probably include a heck of a lot of drool. But if I could form words out of that drool...even better, words in Hebrew...they would say the following:

Dear Wall,
You're very tall and old. What's with all these people rocking back and forth at you? Doesn't it scare you that you'll crack their heads open? Anyway, please help me out with the following:

Health and happiness for my family

Make me taller than my mommy and less funny-looking than my daddy

Next Tuesday let me crawl out of my crib, across the hallway, and into my parents' bed so quietly that when they wake up in the morning and find me in between them it completely freaks them out.

Give me a Wii programmed so that I always beat the computer, but so I don't know it's programmed that way.

Grant me 50% less drool, 90% less snot and 40% more hair

Invent a diaper that automatically converts poop into jellybeans. That way I never have to be changed and my parents can just tip me over and pour out my poop into the jellybean jar. I probably still wouldn't eat the jellybeans, though. Yuck.

And can you do something about the summer fog in San Francisco? I'm freezing here!

Thanks, my man.
Spencer.

Below are some pictures of me eating avocado in by best stain-obscuring green outfit!

Yum!

Huge day yesterday. Just huge. In fact this whole week has been one filled with memorable occasions.

I ate food yesterday! Real food, not breast milk. Now I can stop feeling like a barn calf on animal planet.

Check these pics out!!


Here my mom is trying to remind me that I'm supposed to eat what's IN the box, not the box itself. Why do people feed babies lame food like rice cereal? If people on death row get lobster as their last meals, why do babies get porridge for their first one?




And here it is - me eating from a real spoon! I'd been watching my parents for months eat in front of me, and frankly tried to signal to them many times while we were up in Oregon on that I was ready to eat like a real human, so I was ready for action. I even grabbed the spoon from my mom and fed myself - seriously!

Here's a video, too...for those of you who want to see my mad eating skeelz:




I'm sorry, but I just have to comment on this video. My mom is clearly crazy. This must be what the textbooks say happens when a mom's hormones go haywire post-partum: first she goes mental over every little sniffle and cough her child has, and then she starts shrieking "yummy yummy food, yummy yummy food" in some kind of mouse voice as if her child were a pet with a 10th percentile pet IQ. But I'll keep her anyway, she's 99th percentile mom.

Here are a few more pictures of me looking so, so cute. Yes, I'm a conceited baby blogger...

I love playing in my exersaucer!

These three are left over from our trip to Oregon. In the first, I'm playing yet more mini-golf with my parents, this time being toted around with my dad. What's with my parents and mini-golf?







And here's an idyllic setting along Upper Lake Klamath, me and dad lounging under a tree, and me sitting in mom's lap. Reminds me of Little House on the Prairie, only without the preachiness.




Love,
Spencer

Obama raises $52M with help from BBB

Big news today from the political world. Barack raised $52M in june, more than twice the amount raised by John McCain ($22M). Not quite the $100M he'd set as his big goal, but still way more than the pundits were expecting.

What didn't make the news was that in addition to $52M, Barack received donations of 450 pacifiers and 340 sippy cups from ardent members of BBB. Separately, the McCain
campaign received 34 sets of dentures.

At this rate, if the election were delayed until next June, Barack could raise enough money to buy the island of Antigua and offer the presidency of that island to me. I think I'd make an enlightened despot for the people of Antigua. The only real law I'd impose would be that, upon demand, the nearest citizen would have to change my diaper. Beyond that, they could do what they want.

I forgot to post a picture the other day of my first bike ride! I didn't actually ride the bike - my sled-dad pulled me around while I sat in a little tent-on-wheels a few feet behind him.

I felt like the mother-in-law from the Jetsons - you remember how George Jetson's car had the separate seat in the back? If I really pushed this I could spin my entire ride into a civil rights violation...but it was a fun violation!

Love,
Spencer

Momentous Mobility!!!

You just won't believe this. You just won't.

First, I'm finally back in San Francisco. It's colder and foggier, but it's home. As we crossed the bay bridge into the city, the inflated housing prices were palpable and gave me shivers up my spine.

Second, I turned one-half today! I'm 6 months old...but still I'm not eligible to vote. Sorry, Barack.

And Third, I CRAWLED TODAY. Check this out!!



You'll notice in the video that I'm doing some serious panting - crawling is tough work when you're only 6 months old! But I can't begin to tell you how liberating it is to be able to crawl across my 4' x 4' multi-colored letter mat so I can chew on the rubber corners.

With the exception of my birth and the day I realized that Seal is likely to die before Heidi Klum, making her eligible to marry me once I'm 16, this is the most exciting day of my life!

Love,
Spencer

Middle of nowhere...

My parents are still dragging me around Oregon. I have no idea where I am right now. Seriously, I’m in the middle of nowhere. I’m in a town so remote there’s not even a Starbuck’s here! Then again, that may be a good thing.

So since we left Portland, we’ve been to a few places. Our first stop was to a town called Bend, which is up in the Cascade mountains.

On the way there, we stopped at two quintessentially Oregonian spots – a dam, and a manmade lake behind a dam. Most of Oregon’s power comes from water-based sources, such as man-made dams and schools of servant salmon harnessed to generators like sled dogs, forced to swim endlessly upstream. At the dam, there were 50 locals set up with fishing gear trying to catch fish before they got whooshed 500 feet down through the dam. My favorite part of the lake we visited was the concrete shoreline…seriously, it was concrete. It was a gorgeous day, and I loved getting out of my car seat to play in the woods! This is a great shot of me looking cute holding my giraffe, Sophie, while my dad multi-tasks on his cell phone.









Bend has a cute downtown, but it’s small, so there’s not much for an eligible young infant like myself to do at night. Bend is one of those towns that takes pride in having, in the dead center of its downtown strip, a 1950’s era ice cream shop, complete with blond 16-year-olds miserably dressed up as Flo from Alice (“Kiss my grits!”).

Really, Bend is a great launching point for long, mountain hikes, but given that it was 90 degrees, I was more inclined to breast feed, poop and sleep than go hiking, so we hung around town and checked out the sights. So what does a family do in a town like Bend when it’s that hot? We play mini-golf! Here’s a classic mini-golf pose; that’s me inside my mom’s anti-sun contraption…she looks a bit like humpty dumpty in that get-up!








Mom and dad wanted to stay overnight in a bed and breakfast in Bend, and on the internet it looked like there were a few cute ones…but I have some news that will shock many of you. NONE of the B&Bs in Bend would let us stay there! They ALL discriminate against babies! Sure, they give you a song and dance about being a place for “romantic getaways” where people want to “get away” from their “kids” at home and avoid “using” unnecessary “punctuation” to “emphasize sarcasm.” But really, B&Bs just hate babies. It wouldn’t surprise me if that scrumptious country breakfast an unsuspecting honeymooning couple is eating right now at a lovely Bend B&B has a banana walnut muffin that’s soaked in cinnamon-spiced baby tears!

I plan on getting the ACLU involved in this clear violation of baby civil rights – like MLK Jr. said in the first draft of his famous speech, “I have a dream that our nation will judge a baby not by the color of his poop, but by the content of his spit-up.” He changed that in his final draft.

Also, I promise to work to create a list of baby-friendly B&Bs around the country for all of you vacationing babies out there. I welcome suggestions for listings, as this is pretty much an empty promise.

So anyway, instead of a B&B, we stayed at a cute little inn/resort that had both an indoor AND an outdoor pool – and since it was 90 degrees outside, we took the indoor option, thank you very much. Here’s a quick picture of me in action…and admittedly, I’m not quite looking my best:









Next stop after Bend was to one of the natural wonders of the world, Crater Lake. A few facts I learned about Crater Lake. First, it’s in Oregon. I hadn’t known that. Second, it’s a big lake set in a crater. This made sense to me from the name, but it really hits you when you see it. Third, it’s deep – the deepest in the US and 3rd deepest in the world. Fourth, it was formed when Mount Mazama erupted and imploded on itself about 7,700 years ago – which I can only assume the National Park Service learned from an eyewitness account by John McCain (ouch). And fifth, it’s just plain gorgeous:








I really recommend a visit here – my parents tell me this is the first time they’ve done a traveling vacation in the US in many years…not quite a “staycation” but close enough…and they think it compares favorably to other natural wonders they’ve seen outside the country. It’s not like it’s a manufactured tourist trap like Mount Rushmore or the world’s largest ear of corn! We did some great hiking, including a jaunt 1,000 feet down into the crater to put our feet in the FREEZING cold lake…doesn’t my dad look like a walking crib with that toy hanging from his shoulder?









And I got to see my first snow!! In July? Who would have thunk it…









So now I’m just outside of a town called Klamath Falls, near Oregon’s border with the great state of California. As if Klamath Falls weren’t remote enough, we’re 12 miles outside of town. My first impression of Klamath Falls came at the Fred Meyer supermarket, where my mom and dad went to get some food to do a cookout, and when we were standing in the aisle looking at the ketchup, some random woman came up to us and said…I’m not making this up…: “Don’t buy Heinz Ketchup…that Teresa Heinz Kerry, she’s CRAZY!” Clearly I didn’t tell her about my Babies Behind Barack PAC, I didn’t want her to pour more crazies on me.

OK, just a few more pictures…










Love, Spencer

OOOOregon

I can now officially check off yet another state from my list of roughly 50 I need to visit to cover the whole US of A. I'm writing from Portland, Oregon, where my parents took me for a bit of vacation. Loyal readers will recognize that now, other than my home state of California, I've been to both Ohio and Oregon, meaning that once my parents drag me to Oklahoma I'll have one entire letter covered. Frankly, I think my parents chose a terrible letter. Ahem, H is for Hawaii, people!

Many people will know Portland as a city that sounds a lot like the capital of Maine. In fact, I'm 80% sure that Portland Oregon was founded by the descendants of the original settlers of Portland Maine, but I'm 90% sure I just made that up.

With the exception of constant cloud cover and hazy smoke wafting up from the fires in Northern California, I've loved Portland so far. The town has a lot of character, although I think it's a bit of a cop-out that their "landmark" is nearby Mount Hood. I mean, it's beautiful and all, but couldn't they create SOMETHING man made that they could put on shot glasses and collectible spoons? You know, San Fran has the golden gate bridge; New York has the Empire State Building; Houston has the aroma of stale petroleum - these are all memorable features created by the men who lived there. Maybe Portlanders could make a 4 story statue of Rasheed Wallace next to a 3 story statue of a ref giving him a technical. That would look nice on an "I heart Portland" t-shirt.

So what did we do in Portland, you ask? Well, we saw some old friends. First we saw my new friend Adrian, whose parents used to live in San Francisco. Adrian's mom has the same name and hair as my mom does...but in this picture she looks much less sleepy.








We also saw my dad's very old friend Stephanie and her family, which consisted of a Joel, a Samantha and a Gabrielle. We went to the park and then to an apparently famous bookstore called Powell's, which pretty much looked like a Barnes and Noble but without a co-located Starbuck's. I think I just pissed off an awful lot of Portlanders. It was so great to see them! In this picture I clearly look fascinated by Stephanie's hair.








I loved going to my first bookstore!











Also, we went to the second-highest year-round waterfall in the US, which is in the Columbia River Gorge just east of Portland. It's called Multnomah Falls. I spent an exhausting 75 minutes making my up a winding path up to the top of the 620 foot falls, and would have made much better time if my dad hadn't been so slow in pushing me up the hill in my stroller. I need to work on that guy.





My visit to Multnomah Falls now means that, in one form or another, I've now been to the three tallest year-round waterfalls in the US. When my mom was just one month pregnant with me, and I was roughly the size of Herve Villechaize, we visited Yosemite Falls and Nevada Falls in Yosemite Park. Frankly, Multnomah falls was nothing compared to those two. But what makes it worthwhile is having my dad constantly saying "mult-NOMAH" like a freaking annoying 2002 Red Sox fan. You Boston readers, you feel me. Even a zen baby like myself can only take so much.


Turns out Portland was also having Blues festival over 4th of July weekend. Having a blues festival in Portland sounds to me a bit like having a low-fat foods festival in Decatur Georgia, but I had a great time anyway. Here's a shot of me and my dad at the festival, with that ever-present cloud cover...and may I ask what's up with my dad's expression?












Finally, I spent some time scooping beans in a Peet's Coffee in the Pearl District in Portland. Next time you're in Portland, you should experience the smooth, refreshing taste of Peet's Coffee. Say that line again with a Billy Dee Williams voice and you have the makings of a Colt 45 commercial. Here I am hard at work behind the counter, scoop in hand:










OK, just a few more pictures before closing out. I was looking particularly cute and dimply today, don't you think? In the first one I look like I'm ready for an Apollo mission...






And here's a series of me getting jiggy with some tummy time:








Love,
Spencer