I have hardly been blogging of late, but decide it's high time I wrote down what the kids have been up to. Chubbocks has finished Class 2 with his usual effortless performance so far ( brags moi :)) and moved up to Class 3. He's now 8, supposedly grown up. But the boy is a marshmallow inside.
We were giving up our Photon connection because it gave us dismal connectivity. Chubbocks mounted a full campaign asking us not to give it up. Finally he came down to begging us that even if we disconnected it, we should keep the modem somewhere safe, "else it's feelings will get hurt." I was cleaning out the kids playroom recently and came across a box full of soft toys, which the kids have hardly ever played with. I had the maid put them into a bag, preparatory to giving them away. That night I found Chubbocks, soft brown eyes full of concern. "Please don't throw them away. They are my babies!" Now that bag has been transported into an attic, half the contents piled on Chubbocks' bed, with barely enough space on the bed for him to be able to turn over.
Puddi is another thing altogether. She's crazy about art and runs riot with paint, crayons and colour pencils. She spends hours every day quietly engrossed in making a new work of art. I get the distinct feeling she is artistically gifted, going by her efforts so far. She's also an enthusiastic performer on stage. Her puppet dance came in for an encore on the day that we had PTA meetings, and she performed with the same gusto as she had done on stage. Last week she had a ballet performance. Her bit was pretty minor, but she was hilarious. The child next to her had forgotten her steps and refused to stand up on cue. So Puddi just reaches over and hauls her to her feet, gesticulating wildly to remind her of the steps :)
She's also growing into a lovely sister and a great middle child. She's equally happy running riot with Bojjandi or with Chubbocks. She plays board games, argues with Chubbocks, has long arguments and nonsense conversations with him. They fight all the time and irritate each other, yet her eyes well up when he gets scolded. He gets rather hyper at bedtime and competes fiercely for who will get Abba to sit on their bed first, and she's so quick to give in to keep him happy! Then, with Bojjandi, she's riotously running and tumbling around the house and making him laugh. We were out for dinner the other day, and Bojjandi wanted a bite of her dessert. Not only did she readily agree to share but she maternally and responsibly told him to sit down neatly next to her and fed him with such loving care.
And then there's Bojjandi, the most mischievous, rascally urchin in our house. His speech, both in English and Hindi, has grown by leaps and bounds, and he rattles off long sentences, even paragraphs. His communication skills are terrific and he is easily understood by all of us at home, even if newcomers find it hard to figure him out. That's because his 'r's and 'l's are still 'y' sounds, which is adorable and I really want him to stay that way fro as long as possible.
He's like a dashing movie hero - dashing around the hosue at all times. One of the loudest voices in the house too. Very fond of opening the fridge and scavenging for anythign interesting that he can find, from dahi to chutney, chocolates to cheese. Stubborn as a mule, he still hasn't touched milk after we threw away his bottles six months ago! Assertive and more than capable of holding his own against either Chubbocks or Puddi. And when he gets really affectionate towards you - watch out. He'll come and 'kench' you ( pinch) realy hard, with a fierce expression and gritted pearly teeth. or launch himself at you like a missile and pound away with his chubby fists. He loves his Noddy scooter and his favourite thing is, at night after he's changed into pajamas, to come riding into the family room on the scooter, long, unruly curls blowing behind him, like those old-fashioned Bollywood hero-introduction shots :)
Showing posts with label Baby Bojjandi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Baby Bojjandi. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Bedtime Tales
Bedtimes at our house are getting increasingly complex, with three children of different ages and tastes to account for. It started out with Chubbocks getting three stories a night, followed by some singing. Chubbocks also has the same strange affliction I have - when he gets sleepy, his back starts itching and he has to have his back scratched for a bit.
Then along came Puddi, and we had to split the story-telling and back scratching/ patting between the two. And now we have Bojjandi, who's a pretty demanding little fellow. And we have sibling competitions on a nightly basis. Just to give you an idea of how a typical bedtime goes...
First we have a race up two flights of stairs to the bedroom floor. The first one to reach always has to proclaim "I win!", while the other two protest about cheating or how they had a stomach ache or had fallen down two weeks ago and were still nursing a stiff knee. Then, while A or I, or both, are turning back quilts and making the beds ready for the night, the three have a scrimmage at the bookshelf in their room, each picking out the book they want to be read from. Bojjandi, who has no concept of fairness, usually pulls out three or four books, while dropping half a dozen others on the floor, and insists that he wants to listen to them all, while we try to dissuade him.
Chubbocks and Puddi argue about whose bed the hapless parent will sit on that night to read the stories. Since this is supposed to happen on a rotational basis, one of the kids will always insist on having a convenient attack of amnesia about the previous night. Thankfully Bojji still sleeps in a crib, so he's not part of this competition. Then Chubbocks and Puddi will argue about whose story gets read first, while Bojjandi insistently yells out the name of his story, "Abba, yeed mine!( read mine)". I try to avoid this mess when it's my turn at bedtime by insisting that I choose all three stories or narrate them from memory/ imagination, and the strategy works some of the time.
Finally, somehow I settle on one of the beds, Bojjandi on my lap, while the other two try and squash in as close as possible, crib about how they can't see the pictures/ words and how it isn't fair. We try and read Bojjandi's story first, most nights, because that's the only way to shut him up while the other two stories are being read. Halfway through the story, Bojjandi tries to skip ahead and look at other pictures in the book, while we haul him back to what we're reading. We then read out the other two stories.
Once the stories are done and kids tucked in to their respective beds, Bojjandi starts his nightly queries about everyone on the house. "Where'sh abba?" "Where'sh ayoopa didi?". Then it comes to his playmates. "Where'sh miaow (his stuffed toy tiger)?" "Where'sh Gob the bildo ( Bob the builder)" He also answers many of the questions himself, which makes me wonder what the point is. "Gob'sh sh'eeping ( Bob is sleeping)". "Ayoopa didi'sh sh'eeping" and so on, till I issue a ultimatum about not singing until he keeps quiet.
Then come the song requests. Puddi usually wants 'a few of my favourite things'. She's also become fond of 'Wouldn't it be lovely' from My Fair Lady ( I think the phrase 'lots of chocolate for me to eat' had something to do with it!). Bojjandi used to ask for the Karadi song - 'The Bear went up the Mountain', which I sing in English and Kannada. The 'kookabayya' used to be another favourite earlier. Lately he's hooked on to 'Chim chimenee' from Mary Poppins, and keeps asking for repeats. If I start singing something he doesn't care for particularly, he's pretty direct about it, "Mamma, shwitch the shong off!" Chubbocks has no music requests and takes pretty much anything I sing in a sweet spirit. For instance, tonight I sang The Boxer by Simon and Garfunkel and asked him if he liked the song. He said he didn't care for it because of the bit about boxing and 'cut him till he cried out' but generously stated that he liked the way I sang it. That's so much a part of his personality - not wanting to hurt the other person by any criticism...
After the concert, during which Bojjandi will talk continuously, along with requests to 'shcat my bat' - which he just says to copy his siblings, you could tapdance on his shoulder and he would think you were shcatting his bat, he will turn to his side and keep repeating your name over and over, a sure sign that he's sleepy. He's still pretty alert to any signs of wrongdoing, though - tonight, I started patting his forehead, hoping to make him nod off sooner, and he reprimanded me sternly, "Mamma, don't bang me!"
The other two wait patiently while their noisy and fussy junior gets to sleep, sometimes falling asleep themselves in the process. Then comes the argument about who gets their back scratched first and whose back gets patted first. Finally, when I think these two are sleepy enough to go off on their own, I tiptoe out of their room, wishing them, as per family joke and tradition, 'gooda nayatoo, sudarimasu. I love you cherry vammu...
Then along came Puddi, and we had to split the story-telling and back scratching/ patting between the two. And now we have Bojjandi, who's a pretty demanding little fellow. And we have sibling competitions on a nightly basis. Just to give you an idea of how a typical bedtime goes...
First we have a race up two flights of stairs to the bedroom floor. The first one to reach always has to proclaim "I win!", while the other two protest about cheating or how they had a stomach ache or had fallen down two weeks ago and were still nursing a stiff knee. Then, while A or I, or both, are turning back quilts and making the beds ready for the night, the three have a scrimmage at the bookshelf in their room, each picking out the book they want to be read from. Bojjandi, who has no concept of fairness, usually pulls out three or four books, while dropping half a dozen others on the floor, and insists that he wants to listen to them all, while we try to dissuade him.
Chubbocks and Puddi argue about whose bed the hapless parent will sit on that night to read the stories. Since this is supposed to happen on a rotational basis, one of the kids will always insist on having a convenient attack of amnesia about the previous night. Thankfully Bojji still sleeps in a crib, so he's not part of this competition. Then Chubbocks and Puddi will argue about whose story gets read first, while Bojjandi insistently yells out the name of his story, "Abba, yeed mine!( read mine)". I try to avoid this mess when it's my turn at bedtime by insisting that I choose all three stories or narrate them from memory/ imagination, and the strategy works some of the time.
Finally, somehow I settle on one of the beds, Bojjandi on my lap, while the other two try and squash in as close as possible, crib about how they can't see the pictures/ words and how it isn't fair. We try and read Bojjandi's story first, most nights, because that's the only way to shut him up while the other two stories are being read. Halfway through the story, Bojjandi tries to skip ahead and look at other pictures in the book, while we haul him back to what we're reading. We then read out the other two stories.
Once the stories are done and kids tucked in to their respective beds, Bojjandi starts his nightly queries about everyone on the house. "Where'sh abba?" "Where'sh ayoopa didi?". Then it comes to his playmates. "Where'sh miaow (his stuffed toy tiger)?" "Where'sh Gob the bildo ( Bob the builder)" He also answers many of the questions himself, which makes me wonder what the point is. "Gob'sh sh'eeping ( Bob is sleeping)". "Ayoopa didi'sh sh'eeping" and so on, till I issue a ultimatum about not singing until he keeps quiet.
Then come the song requests. Puddi usually wants 'a few of my favourite things'. She's also become fond of 'Wouldn't it be lovely' from My Fair Lady ( I think the phrase 'lots of chocolate for me to eat' had something to do with it!). Bojjandi used to ask for the Karadi song - 'The Bear went up the Mountain', which I sing in English and Kannada. The 'kookabayya' used to be another favourite earlier. Lately he's hooked on to 'Chim chimenee' from Mary Poppins, and keeps asking for repeats. If I start singing something he doesn't care for particularly, he's pretty direct about it, "Mamma, shwitch the shong off!" Chubbocks has no music requests and takes pretty much anything I sing in a sweet spirit. For instance, tonight I sang The Boxer by Simon and Garfunkel and asked him if he liked the song. He said he didn't care for it because of the bit about boxing and 'cut him till he cried out' but generously stated that he liked the way I sang it. That's so much a part of his personality - not wanting to hurt the other person by any criticism...
After the concert, during which Bojjandi will talk continuously, along with requests to 'shcat my bat' - which he just says to copy his siblings, you could tapdance on his shoulder and he would think you were shcatting his bat, he will turn to his side and keep repeating your name over and over, a sure sign that he's sleepy. He's still pretty alert to any signs of wrongdoing, though - tonight, I started patting his forehead, hoping to make him nod off sooner, and he reprimanded me sternly, "Mamma, don't bang me!"
The other two wait patiently while their noisy and fussy junior gets to sleep, sometimes falling asleep themselves in the process. Then comes the argument about who gets their back scratched first and whose back gets patted first. Finally, when I think these two are sleepy enough to go off on their own, I tiptoe out of their room, wishing them, as per family joke and tradition, 'gooda nayatoo, sudarimasu. I love you cherry vammu...
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Bojjandi turns two
Wow, it's kind of unbelievable that this kid is already tw, almost ready to be a little boy and not my bab-looest baby any more.
It seems like just yesterday that A and I were struggling with the decision of whether or not to allow this darling dumpling into our lives.
I can still remember the crazy time I had when pregnant with him - working 18 hour days, with low BP and anaemia and all-day nausea. I'd turn up at work, white as a ghost, barely able to heave my heavy body up the stairs, and my colleagues would rush out to help me, pulling out a chair and getting me some water, worried that I was going to faint. I travelled like a loon when pregnant, for about a month, I'd get home only to unpack and pack a fresh set of clothes and take off again.
I remember the weekend before he was born, how much A and I partied. we were at madmomma's 30th birthday party saturday, me barely being able to climb the 3 floors up to her house. The next night we had a karaoke evening with friends that lasted until 2 am. Even at the hospital, when we checked in on Monday evening, it felt like a holiday. The older two were safely in my parents' care. And that meant a last night of chilling out sans baby for A and me, and we watched old movies on the laptop and fell asleep much before the nurse came in to wake me up with a sleeping pill. The only hard part was not drinking water all night.
And Bojjandi helped me breach the barrier of fear and go for a spinal anaesthetic, rather than the general one I'd had the past two times. I could hear the doctors as they went about their business, though I tried to block it all out. And I called A from the OT as soon as the last stitch went in, to reassure him that I was fine.
And then I went into my room and saw Bojjandi for the first time, all pink and white and soft...It was the fastest that I'd felt a surge of love for any of my kids, maybe because I knew he would be the last baby I would have. Every little thing I did for him seemed to and still has an added poignancy, whether it's teaching him 'incy-wincy spider' or giving him a bath.
I'm a little scared that I'm going to end up spoiling him, me, the strict martinet of a mother. Because I keep feeling like holding on to every moment of baby-ishness. If he asks to climb into my 'yap', I rarely say no. Or if he asks to be carried up the stairs at night, I'm the first to say 'let's'. Thankfully he seems to be a pretty independent-minded baby and wants to do everything his siblings do, so hopefully he'll manage to grow up at the usual speed.
Even if I'm clinging with one hand to him and trying to pull him back, slow him down and say, hey, let me keep you my baby as long as I can.
Ever since he's entered our lives, he has filled it with so much joy, laughter, fun and mischief it's unbelievable that we might have considered saying no to this gift of God. Watching him run round and round the house and then fling himself with careless disregard for safety of life or limb onto me or the sofa, with an intrinsic trust in the softness of the world seems to soften the edges of our own adult world. Having him grow and start speaking long sentences and communicate so clearly at barely two is just amazing. And best of all is having him hug me, folding his whole cuddly, roundd little body into me, arms around my shoulders in complete surrender - it's as if the whole world of stress and tension has disappeared for those moments and I'm in a wonderful cocoon of love and comfort. He has already given us far, far more than we expected, despite having two other kids who do the same. And he's only two!
It seems like just yesterday that A and I were struggling with the decision of whether or not to allow this darling dumpling into our lives.
I can still remember the crazy time I had when pregnant with him - working 18 hour days, with low BP and anaemia and all-day nausea. I'd turn up at work, white as a ghost, barely able to heave my heavy body up the stairs, and my colleagues would rush out to help me, pulling out a chair and getting me some water, worried that I was going to faint. I travelled like a loon when pregnant, for about a month, I'd get home only to unpack and pack a fresh set of clothes and take off again.
I remember the weekend before he was born, how much A and I partied. we were at madmomma's 30th birthday party saturday, me barely being able to climb the 3 floors up to her house. The next night we had a karaoke evening with friends that lasted until 2 am. Even at the hospital, when we checked in on Monday evening, it felt like a holiday. The older two were safely in my parents' care. And that meant a last night of chilling out sans baby for A and me, and we watched old movies on the laptop and fell asleep much before the nurse came in to wake me up with a sleeping pill. The only hard part was not drinking water all night.
And Bojjandi helped me breach the barrier of fear and go for a spinal anaesthetic, rather than the general one I'd had the past two times. I could hear the doctors as they went about their business, though I tried to block it all out. And I called A from the OT as soon as the last stitch went in, to reassure him that I was fine.
And then I went into my room and saw Bojjandi for the first time, all pink and white and soft...It was the fastest that I'd felt a surge of love for any of my kids, maybe because I knew he would be the last baby I would have. Every little thing I did for him seemed to and still has an added poignancy, whether it's teaching him 'incy-wincy spider' or giving him a bath.
I'm a little scared that I'm going to end up spoiling him, me, the strict martinet of a mother. Because I keep feeling like holding on to every moment of baby-ishness. If he asks to climb into my 'yap', I rarely say no. Or if he asks to be carried up the stairs at night, I'm the first to say 'let's'. Thankfully he seems to be a pretty independent-minded baby and wants to do everything his siblings do, so hopefully he'll manage to grow up at the usual speed.
Even if I'm clinging with one hand to him and trying to pull him back, slow him down and say, hey, let me keep you my baby as long as I can.
Ever since he's entered our lives, he has filled it with so much joy, laughter, fun and mischief it's unbelievable that we might have considered saying no to this gift of God. Watching him run round and round the house and then fling himself with careless disregard for safety of life or limb onto me or the sofa, with an intrinsic trust in the softness of the world seems to soften the edges of our own adult world. Having him grow and start speaking long sentences and communicate so clearly at barely two is just amazing. And best of all is having him hug me, folding his whole cuddly, roundd little body into me, arms around my shoulders in complete surrender - it's as if the whole world of stress and tension has disappeared for those moments and I'm in a wonderful cocoon of love and comfort. He has already given us far, far more than we expected, despite having two other kids who do the same. And he's only two!
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Long overdue updates
I started this blog because I thought it'd be great for the kids to see my memories of them laid out over the years once they got older. Of course, that only works when you are laying out those memories at regular intervals instead of practically once a year as I have been. Suffice it to say it has been a hectic time for several reasons so I've hardly been blogging this year.
But it's high time to update everyone on what's going on. To start with, I can proudly say that Chubbocks is a reader! I kind of had the feeling he would be, what with us owning (yes, I have to brag about this) over 5000 books and having set up a library at home, and the fact that he used to mug up his favourite books from the age of two and a bit onwards and pretend to be reading them out, but still...now he's a bonafide member of the reader's clan. I gave hima reading list this summer, of books that he could read over and above the stuff he was into anyway, like Horrid henry etc, and I'm delighted to say he has made great headway, and he loves some of those books and is dying to read them again, if only the list of new reads wasn't so exciting. I have also started a book club for kids his age, and plan to have a meeting this weekend if possible, so i'm looking forward to it.
Puddi has as always made a smooth transition, as butter-soft as her cheeks, from playschool to full time school. We were a little worried the first couple of days as she would go in crying but that passed really fast and now l'il madam comes and goes on the school bus. A rode along the first morning she went by bus, and apparently Puddi confidently marched to a seat, sat down and began chattering away with a boy from Class III or IV, much to his embarrassment! Poor thing, she does have a long school day for a four year old - from 7:45 am to 3:15 pm when she returns, and there are days when she gets cranky from being tired. But on the whole she's taken to it like a duck to water.
And now Bojjandi is also in school! He's in playschool twice a week. It's a parent-accompanied class so I go once a week and my maid goes with him once a week. And this little kiddo just loves it. We were lucky enough to get the same magical teacher who first taught Chubbocks and Puddi ( Jimmy is famous in Gurgaon), and Bojji has really taken a liking to him and to school. Now every day, in fact several times a day and even at odd times like after dinner, Bojjandi will start plaintively demanding, "ecooy jaana hai"( school jaana hai). Within two sessions at school he was singing along to 'Three little monkeys' and his English is growing by leaps and bounds. Now it's become a common sight around our colony to see him marching along wearing an empty old school bag on his shoulders, in imitation of Puddi and Chubbocks.
It's quite interesting to see the dynamics between the three siblings. There are times when they play very well together and it's lovely to hear three giggles pealing out through the house. Chubbocks is really protective of Puddi if anyone, including we, threaten her, and they have also reached the stage where they can play some board games together - Snakes and Ladder, Ouch etc.
But Chubbocks has reached a stage where he thinks he should be able to boss Puddi around because he's older, and my spirited gal ain't having any of that. So last night at the dinner table, I was telling Chubbocks to be careful not to get any food stains on his father's white shirt as he was perilously waving his dinner spoon around. As usual, Chubbocks tried to be contrarian and say, "The shirt isn't even white". So Puddi puts her oar in with a contemptuous, "Don't talk rubbish, ok! It is white." And she does it so nonchalantly that it has A and me in fits of laughter!
Then she and Bojji have a very different equation. She loves him but he's a bit jealous of her so he'll come up to me and complain, "puddi puchin"( Puddi pushing). Or he'll demand the exact toy she's chosen to play with and cry his heat out if she doesn't hand it over. Sometimes she'll reach out to hug or kiss him and he'll shy away. But then there are the times when they both go whirling around a room like dervishes before falling down bang! on the carpet, in a crazy game and laugh together for hours...
But it's high time to update everyone on what's going on. To start with, I can proudly say that Chubbocks is a reader! I kind of had the feeling he would be, what with us owning (yes, I have to brag about this) over 5000 books and having set up a library at home, and the fact that he used to mug up his favourite books from the age of two and a bit onwards and pretend to be reading them out, but still...now he's a bonafide member of the reader's clan. I gave hima reading list this summer, of books that he could read over and above the stuff he was into anyway, like Horrid henry etc, and I'm delighted to say he has made great headway, and he loves some of those books and is dying to read them again, if only the list of new reads wasn't so exciting. I have also started a book club for kids his age, and plan to have a meeting this weekend if possible, so i'm looking forward to it.
Puddi has as always made a smooth transition, as butter-soft as her cheeks, from playschool to full time school. We were a little worried the first couple of days as she would go in crying but that passed really fast and now l'il madam comes and goes on the school bus. A rode along the first morning she went by bus, and apparently Puddi confidently marched to a seat, sat down and began chattering away with a boy from Class III or IV, much to his embarrassment! Poor thing, she does have a long school day for a four year old - from 7:45 am to 3:15 pm when she returns, and there are days when she gets cranky from being tired. But on the whole she's taken to it like a duck to water.
And now Bojjandi is also in school! He's in playschool twice a week. It's a parent-accompanied class so I go once a week and my maid goes with him once a week. And this little kiddo just loves it. We were lucky enough to get the same magical teacher who first taught Chubbocks and Puddi ( Jimmy is famous in Gurgaon), and Bojji has really taken a liking to him and to school. Now every day, in fact several times a day and even at odd times like after dinner, Bojjandi will start plaintively demanding, "ecooy jaana hai"( school jaana hai). Within two sessions at school he was singing along to 'Three little monkeys' and his English is growing by leaps and bounds. Now it's become a common sight around our colony to see him marching along wearing an empty old school bag on his shoulders, in imitation of Puddi and Chubbocks.
It's quite interesting to see the dynamics between the three siblings. There are times when they play very well together and it's lovely to hear three giggles pealing out through the house. Chubbocks is really protective of Puddi if anyone, including we, threaten her, and they have also reached the stage where they can play some board games together - Snakes and Ladder, Ouch etc.
But Chubbocks has reached a stage where he thinks he should be able to boss Puddi around because he's older, and my spirited gal ain't having any of that. So last night at the dinner table, I was telling Chubbocks to be careful not to get any food stains on his father's white shirt as he was perilously waving his dinner spoon around. As usual, Chubbocks tried to be contrarian and say, "The shirt isn't even white". So Puddi puts her oar in with a contemptuous, "Don't talk rubbish, ok! It is white." And she does it so nonchalantly that it has A and me in fits of laughter!
Then she and Bojji have a very different equation. She loves him but he's a bit jealous of her so he'll come up to me and complain, "puddi puchin"( Puddi pushing). Or he'll demand the exact toy she's chosen to play with and cry his heat out if she doesn't hand it over. Sometimes she'll reach out to hug or kiss him and he'll shy away. But then there are the times when they both go whirling around a room like dervishes before falling down bang! on the carpet, in a crazy game and laugh together for hours...
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
What's a Bojjandi?
Thanks to everyone who wrote in with congratulatory messages. I would post individual replies except that Bojjandi has an uncanny way of knowing exactly when I'm logged on to the net and picks that moment to send up a wail.
Lots of people wanted to know what's a Bojjandi. A Bojjandi is someone who...
looks exactly like Edward G. Robinson when about a day old...
who gets super-excited and waggles his head on his spindly little neck before pouncing on his milk like a hungry eaglet...
who wants to poop and feed at the same moment, causing some confusion for his poor parents who don't know which end to attend to first...
who doesn't even fit into newborn clothes yet and floats around in them as if he's wearing a lifepreserver...
who psyched his family by turning onto his stomach this morning though he's barely 3 weeks old...
who's already got his sister and brother fighting over who gets to keep him in their lap...
who's also lucky enough to have his great-grandma in attendance...
who fits right in to a family that houses a Chubbocks and a Puddi...
Lots of people wanted to know what's a Bojjandi. A Bojjandi is someone who...
looks exactly like Edward G. Robinson when about a day old...
who gets super-excited and waggles his head on his spindly little neck before pouncing on his milk like a hungry eaglet...
who wants to poop and feed at the same moment, causing some confusion for his poor parents who don't know which end to attend to first...
who doesn't even fit into newborn clothes yet and floats around in them as if he's wearing a lifepreserver...
who psyched his family by turning onto his stomach this morning though he's barely 3 weeks old...
who's already got his sister and brother fighting over who gets to keep him in their lap...
who's also lucky enough to have his great-grandma in attendance...
who fits right in to a family that houses a Chubbocks and a Puddi...
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