I make it a point not to talk about politics in this space.  As those who know me know, I’m a bit of a political junkie (at least for this election; to give you some idea, I spent much of the day watching the DNC Rules and Bylaws committee meeting, and actually found it interesting viewing).  That has no place on this site.  But I couldn’t resist posting what I just overheard Shannon saying to Connor in the next room:

“Honey, when you run for President, you should not bring up assassination. It is not appropriate.”

The other night, Connor fell and bumped his head.  In point of fact, this has happened more or less every day since he started crawling and pulling up on things.  He’ll fall, there’ll be a moderate thud, a second or two of silence, then a loud wail as the shock fades.  Then one of us will snatch him up and hug him and his cries will quickly turn to moans, as if he’s only still crying because he’s been crying, but he can’t quite remember why.

So anyway, the other night, he took a particularly nasty fall and got a small bump on his head.  I was making Cookies & Creme frozen yogurt with our new ice cream maker (verdict: homemade frozen yogurt tastes too much like yogurt), so I did what my mom would’ve done and stuck an Oreo in his mouth.

Now Connor’s kind of weird with finger food.  He’s one of the few kids I’ve ever seen who doesn’t stick everything in his mouth.  He doesn’t put much of anything in his mouth, including Cheerios and baby wafer stars.  If you stick something in his mouth, he’ll eat it, but he won’t feed himself yet.

But when I handed him the Oreo… well, see for yourself:

(The drone in the background is the ice cream maker; the music you may hear in the background is Vegetable Town from Snack Time).

Actually, the only questionable thing about this album is that it’s by the Barenaked Ladies, and any time you say that you’re guaranteed to hear titters of laughter from the preadolescents the back seat (just like when you say, “titters,” or “annals,” come to think of it; and here I thought this was a family blog).

The songs are hilarious, and great for kids and adults alike.  Seriously.  It kicks of with 789, about how everybody’s scared of 7 because, you guessed it, 789.  There’s Eraser, an ode to the timeless de-writing implement that starts out as a clever little ’50s doo-wop number and then veers into Bohemian Rhapsody territory.  There’s the Crazy ABCs, in which your child will learn that A is for aisle, D is for djinn, H is for Hour, J is for jalapeños, and around 22 others.

Connor seems to think it’s fun to listen to, and so do we.  Thoroughly worth a listen.

(huh huh.  I said “titter.”)

But he’s apparently not so fond of the papa-ratzi.

He’s just started doing this in the past few days.  Funny story: Shannon was spending time with him on our bed last Thursday morning (as we often do, as he hasn’t been mobile) and, for his first try at forward motion, he crawled himself right off the bed, hit the floor screaming, and then lost his breakfast, prompting Shannon to take him to the ER to get him checked  out.  Okay, so maybe not so funny, but he’s fine, so it all works out.

It’s been a crazy weekend.  Shannon’s been in Dayton for her grandmother’s birthday; I was in Rhode Island at my cousin Tamara’s wedding (bonus points if you can pick Tamara out of the lineup without reading the descriptions – this is my site, and you will be graded) (lovely wedding, incidentally).  So until a few hours ago I hadn’t seen him since late Friday afternoon.  And he sure wasn’t crawling like this then.  He’s gone from awkwardly shuffling backwards to impressive forward progress in about three days.