Nit Picking

Cooper's daycare had a lice outbreak today so he's home for the decisive US World Cup match. He's watching Yo Gabba Gabba on the small screen with soccer on the TV. He laughs at me everytime I get excited or upset.

Do Right Man

Late yesterday I decided to start calling Cooper (who is still sick) by the name of Aretha. Why? Because he's become a diva. He's making completely irrational demands...yesterday he repeatedly screamed 'milk' at me while we were driving in the car. I tried to explain to him that we didn't keep a small refridgerator in the car on the off chance that he might want some milk. So we drove around until we found milk. This morning at 5:30 he rolled over and screamed 'TV' at me until I turned one on. When he didn't like the programming options we had to move to the room with the DVR. He hasn't really been eating so this morning when he smacked me and yelled 'oatmeal' I hopped to it. While the water was boiling he kept bringing in pairs of shorts and screaming until I put them on and took them off. When the oatmeal was done I put him in his chair only to discover that he no longer wanted oatmeal, he wanted yogurt. Aretha is now coloring on the hardwood floors.

Ill Will

After a failed morning looking at empty runways at the airport and an ill-advised trip to a birthday party, we napped and watched cartoons. Shortly after resigning myself to the fact that we were going to be house bound all day, Cooper arose from the couch and demanded that I take him to play with the trains. Here he is in the foyer to Hollisters. Minutes after this was taken he jumped down, ran inside, grabbed a shirt, ran back outside and set off the alarm, much to the chagrin of the 20-yr-old date rapist in training who was working in the front of the store.

Sick n Tired

Cooper and I used to have a deal. He only pooped at daycare. He and his mom have also apparently come to an agreement...he only gets sick when she leaves town.

Morning Glory

Yogurt and the Today show while laying in bed? Erroneous. Black coffee and the World Cup on the couch. Cooper's head ... my feet.

Drive Time

Cooper and I drove Michelle to the airport this morning. She's spending Father's Day at Pebble Beach for the US Open. I'm spending it with the Coopster. We had our first driving lesson on the way home. Much like his mom, Coop spends more time fiddling with the buttons than actually watching the road.

Son of a Beach

We took the Coopster down to Seabrook Island with some friends the week after Memorial Day weekend. We did the same trip with the same people almost the same weekend as last year, so it's funny to look back at the shots from 2009. For example, last year Cooper spent most of the time crawling around and eating the sand. This year he spend most of the time drinking the salt water. Last year he spent one night during the trip screaming from 3am to 6am. This year he spent one night screaming from 3am to 6am. The images are pretty self-explanatory, so I'll refrain from my usual wisecracks. I will note, however, that for some reason I seem to be taking a lot of naked shots lately. Partly because it cracks me up. Partly because the shape of his body is hilarious. Partly because he's one of the few toddlers who knows exactly where his "pee pee" is but has never seen it due to an exceeding large man gut. Mostly because it makes Michelle moderately uncomfortable being the mom of the kid running around chasing 9-yr-old girls while grabbing himself.


This one's a little dark because I had the camera set on "beach." One would think that the beach setting would be the best one to capture a picture of mother and son on the beach. One would be wrong.

There are some parents who are great "toy parents." They have electric cars and battery powered whozawhatzitz. We're not those people. Here, Cooper is playing with a plastic shovel in the ocean. We occasionally go kayaking on the lake and he loves playing with the paddle. He kept slapping the water with the paddle and laughing. Who needs toys?

I call this the "Mario Batali" shot. Large gut. Baseball hat. Crocs.


Though we are not religiously affiliated, we have decided to go with the time-honored Jewish tradition of not cutting Cooper's hair until he's three years old. Michelle wishes she still had blond hair. I wish I still had hair. Our child will suffer extreme discomfort because of this.

Hello ladies. My name is Cooper. This is my pooper.

Tasteful nude shot ...

Less tasteful nude shot ...



Sometimes the dudes need a moment together ... even if one of those dudes is in the process of peeing on the chest of the other dude. Next time I might leave the diaper on a little longer ...