Charlston is already seven months old!! how did this happen…time flies with a lack of sleep. Here are some short stories:
Milk drunk:
It was a normal morning—birds chirping, leaves whispering, and Charleston begging for milk. But I was prepared, with 8 ounces of Mom’s best, warm and ready to go.
As usual, I settled into the chair with Charleston on my lap and the bottle in his mouth. But something was off. After, three coffees and a fiber-heavy night, my bowels was staging a full-scale rebellion. were not going to negotiate.
Thinking quickly, I placed Charleston and the bottle in the crib and made an emergency exit. While in the loo, I thought to myself, Charlie is unusually quiet. Normally, when I interrupt a feeding, it triggers a house shaking Class 3 cry.
Then I heard a thud.
“My goodness!”
Unclean, unprepared, but fueled by pure fatherly instinct, I tripped and tumbled toward Charlie, only to find him face down, peacefully sleeping, with an empty bottle by his side.
My TOT’s Trashy Toys:
One day, I’m in the kitchen, and Charlie starts crying. Not the hungry cry, not a full-on Class 3 meltdown just the “I’m bored” moan.
No problem. I hand him a toy.
He throws it back at me.
Fine. I tie the toy to a string so it always comes back. Genius, right?
Nope. Still bored.
I cycle through half a dozen toys we spent actual money on… he’s already over it.
Next, a store-bought electronic toy so advanced it could probably guide a missile.
He looks at me like, “Seriously?” Bored.
So I hand him a piece of paper.
Works great… until he tries to eat it.
Out of options, I grab a chunk of ginger root.
Suddenly hours of entertainment.
An empty coffee can?
That buys me days.
A broken keyboard?
He’s banging away on it right now like he’s coding the next Facebook.
But then… I find the ultimate.
A small cardboard box attached to a rope.
I have NEVER seen him so happy.
And that’s when Boo walks in.
Looks at me. Looks at Charlie.
“Why is our child playing with an empty coffee can tied to a rope hanging from the ceiling?”
I just shrug.
“Because he loves it.”
The Growth Ritual
The Boo shakes me awake.
“Vinny… Vinny…”
I blink into the darkness. “What summons me?”
“It is time.”
“I understand.” I don my robe of the night.
Candles flicker. Shadows dance. We speak in whispers so as not to disturb the spirits. For six months we have awaited this ritual. The fire is stoked, the circle prepared. Artifacts, each one sacred, are arranged with meticulous care.
Charlie is placed at the center.
I lift the stone of obsidian. Within its smooth black surface lies infinite knowledge, streaming from unseen worlds. I wield it to capture Charlie’s essence, binding his image in a prison of light
The Boo “You’re doing it wrong. And the lighting is off. This photo will be awful.”
“What? I am aligned perfectly with the couch”
The boo “Why did you start a fire?”
“The room was dim. We needed more soft light. And… we have a fireplace. It’s cozy.”
Thus, after half a year of preparation…
…the perfect baby picture was taken.
6 Weeks
7 weeks:
8 weeks:
12 weeks:
4 months
5 months:
6 Months
I couldn’t make a post without including some baby photos. Also, the Voting for Baby of the Year is still happening and you can vote once a day, So………….
ChiricoChronicles 