Squeaky smiles!

I've already earned a nickname, "Squeaky." Because I squeak a lot. But I'm working on a new nickname: Smiley. Because I'm trying to smile more:

Welcome back to me!

Sorry for the delay, but I've been busy fusing together the bones in my skull and developing my eyesight. Luckily for you, I'm taking a half-hour break from all of that to share some of my latest pictures.

The learning has already begun. Daddy is teaching me the obscene hand gestures of the world-- here's the results of my latest lesson:

I believe in Iceland, this means something rude about your mom.

The last few weeks have featured a long string of admirers. First, some of dad's friends came over for his 28th birthday and were subjected to the reality that their collective biological clocks were ticking.


Tick tick tick tick...


Dave Burnett looks freaked out. How much do you want to bet he's not getting any tonight?

Then Pakei (apparently, Hawaiian for "Grandpa Keith") and Cousin Sydney came and visited from the place mommy refers to as The Motherland:

Look closely-- that's a real smile!


And that's a real bottle of formula!

I've also been out and about. Dad dragged me to class one day. Honestly, it was pretty goddamn boring... I fell asleep, but luckily I didn't get called on.

This place is soulless. I'd like to see some more bright colors and flashing lights.

Finally, mommy wanted me to include at least one artsy photo which explores the intimate bond between mother and daughter. So yeah, here it is.

Is this not chicken soup for your soul? Is it not?

I've been doing my best so far to be a caring big brother. For example, Evvy was being crabby yesterday morning, so I told her: "Evvy, don't cry. My pajamas have stripes on them. You like stripes, don't you?"

I think that really calmed her down.

You wouldn't know it from my little sister's blog, but a lot's been going on that doesn't necessarily involve my baby sister. I've done some rocking out in the last few weeks. First, mom and dad took me to see an outdoor Ben Folds concert as part of an effort to be the "cool" parents:

Here we are, chilling with all of the college kids. Dad looked, uh, wistful...

Dad carried me on his shoulders up to the mosh pit for a few songs. Just as I was starting to get into the piano pop vibe when Ben started playing a song called (from what I could understand) "Beaches Ain't Sheet." I was suddenly whisked back to where mom and Evvy were sitting, with Dad's hands clamped heavily over my head. About 50 college kids laughed at us and made some comment involving earmuffs. I'm not quite sure what happened there, but apparently dad doesn't want me hearing about beaches. I'm assuming it has something to do with rising sea levels due to global warming (I watched Inconvenient Truth with mom and dad the other day).

Back in the peanut gallery, I couldn't hear the music as well, so I spent my time introducing myself to random, childless strangers:

These people seemed really nice, whoever they are.

Next, we went to see this family kids' group called Laughing Pizza. You've probably never heard of them, but they're apparently about to hit the big time (filling the void for cloying kids music left by the departure of the Yellow Wiggle). Naturally, I got my picture taken with them so I could say I knew them and picked my nose with them way back when:



Speaking of rocking out, a number of my readers were confused about the Philadelphia Chickens. Well, I still haven't figured out how to load up awesome songs onto the blog, but my grandpa did give me an actual Philadelphia Chicken:

It turns out that rather than engaging in swing-dancing escapades, they're actually quite docile at night.

When the weather is warm, I've been doing your typical 4-year old stuff (esp with my good friend Rachel):

Swinging...


Surfing...


And drawing carrot trees guarded by demonic pregnant rabbits.

Lastly, I got to spend Easter with Pakei and my cousin Sydney, which is hands-down the best way to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ. The festivities included:

Egg-dying with Sydney...


Egg-smashing with grandpa...


And the annual "Where's Eli?" easter egg hunt.

Seriously, snacks and prizes for anyone who can spot me in this picture. I'll give you a hint: red fire engine boots.

I've been doing my best so far to be a caring big brother. For example, Evvy was being crabby yesterday morning, so I told her: "Evvy, don't cry. My pajamas have stripes on them. You like stripes, don't you?"

I think that really calmed her down.

You wouldn't know it from my little sister's blog, but a lot's been going on that doesn't necessarily involve my baby sister. I've done some rocking out in the last few weeks. First, mom and dad took me to see an outdoor Ben Folds concert as part of an effort to be the "cool" parents:

Here we are, chilling with all of the college kids. Dad looked, uh, wistful...

Dad carried me on his shoulders up to the mosh pit for a few songs. Just as I was starting to get into the piano pop vibe when Ben started playing a song called (from what I could understand) "Beaches Ain't Sheet." I was suddenly whisked back to where mom and Evvy were sitting, with Dad's hands clamped heavily over my head. About 50 college kids laughed at us and made some comment involving earmuffs. I'm not quite sure what happened there, but apparently dad doesn't want me hearing about beaches. I'm assuming it has something to do with rising sea levels due to global warming (I watched Inconvenient Truth with mom and dad the other day).

Back in the peanut gallery, I couldn't hear the music as well, so I spent my time introducing myself to random, childless strangers:

These people seemed really nice, whoever they are.

Next, we went to see this family kids' group called Laughing Pizza. You've probably never heard of them, but they're apparently about to hit the big time (filling the void for cloying kids music left by the departure of the Yellow Wiggle). Naturally, I got my picture taken with them so I could say I knew them and picked my nose with them way back when:



Speaking of rocking out, a number of my readers were confused about the Philadelphia Chickens. Well, I still haven't figured out how to load up awesome songs onto the blog, but my grandpa did give me an actual Philadelphia Chicken:

It turns out that rather than engaging in swing-dancing escapades, they're actually quite docile at night.

When the weather is warm, I've been doing your typical 4-year old stuff (esp with my good friend Rachel):

Swinging...


Surfing...


And drawing carrot trees guarded by demonic pregnant rabbits.

Lastly, I got to spend Easter with Pakei and my cousin Sydney, which is hands-down the best way to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ. The festivities included:

Egg-dying with Sydney...


Egg-smashing with grandpa...


And the annual "Where's Eli?" easter egg hunt.

Seriously, snacks and prizes for anyone who can spot me in this picture. I'll give you a hint: red fire engine boots.