Rubber Ducky You're the One

An Outtake I Couldn't Resist

I posted photos of Rye's tooth a week or so ago. The photo below was not among them. But the more I fought the urge, the more compelled I was to post it. So I'm posting it.

It's actually a pretty good shot of the tooth.

Reflections on Father's Day

I've met so many fathers. But Dad's are hard to come by. If I can do half of what my Dad did, I've got this under control.

My Dad and me.

Rye and her Dad.

A lonely little chopper

Rye's been teething over the last several weeks and I was finally able to document the evidence of a culprit.

 

I think the technical term is "central incisor."

First Words?

Well...isn't this all just coming together nicely...?

The Broadmoor

If you've ever been to the Broadmoor in Colorado Springs, you know that it's hard to adequately describe its full-service perfection. It's one of those almost uncomfortably perfect places...a place where you just know a waiter could lose his job for the way he corked your wine.

Because the wife and I are trying to introduce the Little Girl to the realities of life at an early age, we decided to show her a place that we will henceforth only visit on special occasions. We spent most of our time instructing her on the fine art of wasting entire days at the pool. She's a natural.

On this trip, we were joined by our friends, John and Becca Kuker and their kids, Bosley and Hayes. It was a weekend well spent.

Bosley, Rye and Rhoda in the hot tub

Bosley

"I'd like another virgin White Russian...in a bottle...and warmed to just above room temperature...let's go ahead and make it a double."

My Girl can Fly Pt. II (Some further notes on Memorial Day weekend)

I'm not remembering if I have reported on Rye's sleep habits. If I haven't, it is largely due to superstition, as I am not interested in jinxing anything. The fact of the matter is that things have gone really well for the Little Girl in the sleep department. We followed the teachings of Dr. Ferber (a man who seems to be loved and hated in equal parts, depending on whose little corner of the internet you land in) and have been graced with a six-month-old who typically chats herself to sleep within a few minutes of hearing the last lines of "Good Night Moon" and then sleeps eleven hours most nights. Naps were hard to predict for awhile, but she seems to have discovered how great a mid-day snooze can be as well.

This little Memorial day trip tested her ability to put all that sleep-learnin' into practice in strange environs (planes/hotel room play pens/etc). Things couldn't have gone better. Here's the evidence:

hotel pack-n-play at bedtime

napping in the king-size

pack-n-play nap (with bed-buddy)

pack-n-play nap II