Will you marry me?

Today we visited my girlfriend, Maya. She's a cutie, don't you think? She's a little over two weeks old in this picture, and was born November 4. We've got a lot in common, she and I: we were both born around the six pound range (Maya at 6 pounds and 5 ounces, me at 6 pounds and 15 ounces), and around 20 inches long (Maya: 19.5 inches, Me: 20 inches).


And her family ain't too bad either. I gotta behave around her big brother, though.


I'll wait about twenty years for your answer, Maya. So take your time and think about it. Maybe this picture of me will help you decide.

Whaddya think?

I get by

...with a little help from my friends.

A wedding? And another one?

In the past two weeks, I attended two weddings. The first one was for my dad's cousin, Kevin who married Se Ryun. The second wedding was for mom's friend Steffen, who married Elana. Kevin and Se Ryun had a Korean wedding, and Steffen and Elana had a Jewish wedding. I'll let you figure out which pictures are of which weddings.

One word sums it up

I've got...personality

So finally, their powers of observation have kicked in now that they've adjusted to sleep deprivation, and Mom and Dad have figured out a few things about my personality:

1. I like to smile, laugh, and talk; but I get the hiccups when I get too excited.
2. I make friends easily with stuffed animals.
3. I'm precious in the morning and cranky in the afternoon.
4. I'm ticklish under my arms when I'm being undressed for my bath.
5. I love baths.
6. I am generally a happy baby, except I will shatter glass with my scream if I'm hungry.
7. I'm a 2-faced devil: I'm adorable, cute, and well-behaved in public, but I look forward to coming home and raising hell.
8. I like physical actvities like being tossed into the air, riding on Daddy Race Car, having my swing turned up to level TEN, and being rocketed around the apartment with a jet-pack on my back.
9. I hate being swaddled and insist on having my arms free when I sleep.
10. I like to stick my feet into my own poop when I'm having my diaper changed.

Oops, I did it again

For the third time now since I was born, I slept through the night last night. The first time I did it was on the night of November 1, 2005. Mom and Dad have declared that date a national holiday, Hallelujiah! Last night I went to bed around midnight after we all watched Commander in Chief (I'm picking up tips on how I will run my 2040 Administration). Afterwards, I got my bath and a bottle of Magic Milk (that's breastmilk that has been blessed by sleepy monks somewhere in Tibet). Many many monks must've prayed over that breastmilk because I didn't even wake up for a diaper change.

This weekend I turned 100 days old, which is a big Korean deal. To celebrate, we spent the night with Grandma and Grandpa on Dad's side in Phelan, which is about two hours away from LA. We had a great time, and I got lobster- and steak-flavored breastmilk that evening. I think I tasted a hint of a Margarita, too (or two).

I would also like to take this opportunity to recap the past few months and offer reflection on my life outside the womb. Faithful readers and blog enthusiasts, where do I begin to continue my story? Oh yes: monkey business. Let me begin by telling you that I have lost all the hair on my back and shoulders that I was born with. Mom was pretty disgusted around Month Two when she found pieces of my back hair that had rubbed off and was stuck to my cradle mattress. But it's a relief knowing that I won't be going through life swinging from trees and dragging my knuckles on the ground. Here's an idea of what I'm talking about, for those of you who never got the 0pportunity to behold my glorious fur.


The photo above was taken on August 8, when I was five days old. And no, that's not a dark shadow cast across my shoulders; that's hair. The photo below was taken last night, after I completed a promotional trial of laser hair removal therapy (c'mon, we live in LA).


So as you can see, I've changed quite a bit. Most obvious to even the untrained eye, however, is my weight gain. To offer some perspective, here are BEFORE and AFTER photos of me in the same shirt. The fact that I've been wearing the same shirt for three months also gives you an idea of how inept Mom and Dad have been at buying me clothes that fit.

This photo was taken when I was two weeks old:

And this one was taken a few days ago:

Some other updates of interest: I have started talking in full sentences and often in iambic pentameter, although no one seems to understand me except Lucy. We seem to share a common repertoire of demands: Feed me, cuddle me, clean up my poop! Lucy's list also includes, "scratch my butt," but I haven't asked for that yet.

I've also started smiling and laughing, but only when Mom and Dad are making fools of themselves dancing around me like beasts. Most importantly, I voted in the special elections last week. Every vote counts, and I helped make history by defeating all of our numbskull governor's ballot initiatives. Take THAT, Arnie. Afterwards, I let Lucy wear my "I voted" sticker.

On my eating progress, I upgraded a month ago from 4-ounce bottles to 8-ouncers. These new bottles are as tall as my legs, and Mom likes to wrap a brown paper bag around it when she feeds me in public. But that doesn't keep me from consuming any and all of what Mom and Dad put in them, whether it's formula or breastmilk. Heck, I'm not picky. I'm eating anywhere from 4 to 6 ounces each feeding, about 6 to 8 times a day, averaging about 34 ounces daily. I don't know why Mom and Dad don't just call it even and let me knock back the days with a cool tall forty.

They do let me watch the Lakers games on TV, though, and I even get the whole couch. Dad's been training me to be a potato (see left).

I'm starting to suck on things a lot, like my entire fist or Dad's knuckles (tastes like chicken), and whatever toys I can manage to hold onto and guide into my mouth. Mom and Dad bought me 14 new bibs over the weekend. There was some issue about how much drool-drenched laundry I generate, but I am so totally worth it!