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May 30, 2005

What in the Teague World? #002.

Safe

Like last time, try to figure out what's going on in the picture and guess it up in the comments. Then click the "Continue reading..." link below to see what the deal is.

When we got home from the hospital with Silas the house was C L E A N. Like spotless. Floors were swept; toys were put away. And Luke and Zoe wouldn't be arriving for another day or so.

So like any rational parents we did what would be unthinkable with with a dog and toddler in rotation: we put Silas on the [safe! clean! traffic-free!] floor in between the living room and the breakfast area and took a picture.

[And, yes, I realize that if you came to this post via the notification email the game was totally ruined for you -- I should have thought of that. Pretend you didn't see the answer and guess anyway!]

Andsound

May 26, 2005

Luke or Silas?

Concernedtwins

This is Luke and Silas in the car on the way home from the hospital. Yes, we accidentally put them in the same hat, they're riding in the same car seat, and they have the same expression on their face (can you tell they're related??) But we did take the picture from the other side of the car this time. So...which one is which? Hint: Luke is 3 days old; Silas is 2 days old.

May 23, 2005

You might need to grab a Kleenex for this one.

One of the first things people ask about is how Luke has reacted to Silas.

Well, we got a little bit of it on video. It's pretty good stuff [movicon 6.3Mb Quicktime movie].

May 21, 2005

Boom. Another one.

Silas The Noble Wow. I'm telling you, meeting your new child is the best ever possible thing. We clicked with little Silas right off the bat -- we've just got so much in common.

Jeanine is the perfect mom, and God blessed her with a complication-free, superfast delivery. She's feeling great and is already coming up with stuff to post. So pictures, movies, and reaction and commentary from the previous Baby Teague are in the works. Until then, here are the particulars:

Name: Silas Anthony Teague.
Weight: 8 pounds, 12 ounces. Large and in charge!
Height: 20 inches.
Birthday: 10:19am, May 18, 2005.
Age at birth: 39 weeks, 1 day.
Age as I type: Three days and a couple hours.
Hair: Light, light, blondish-y brown. It covers the sides, back, and just a bit of the top of his head.
Disposition: Pleasant and kind to all he encounters (save the evil nurses with the shots and the manhandling and such).
Language(s): English, Spanish (the latter due to the unexpected arrival of -- get this -- another family in our recovery room. There was such a baby boom this week that they actually had to double us up. Let's just say that we are as intimately familiar with the new Hernandez baby boy as we are our own.).
Hands: Man-size. Seriously. Between these hands and the circumference of his head, he could pass for a 24 year old. When we left the hospital, he was asked where his wife and child were.

[note: Silas rules all on his own, but comparisons to his big brother are inevitable, informative, and fun! Make sure you check out the stats from the last go-around, 22 months ago.]

May 1, 2005

Final blast of pre-Silas randomness.

Happy SwimmersUncle Josh and [we might as well start using Aunt] Lauren have the coolest new site in the world. And since I've always thought of Josh as a much improved, smarter, slicker version of me, it only makes sense that he's got a fancy photo slideshow gadget going. One that I must steal for here. And I will. But it'll have to wait for Silas; it can be one of the nifty things that his arrival brings to the site. For now -- since we're less than three weeks away -- I'm just going to freestyle it and dump stories, photos, and such from the past two months into this one long, rambling post.

Noman.
On the last day of February we got our yearly dusting of snow. Prior to this, Luke had become fascinated with these four snowman plates that we had hanging up in our breakfast room. The "nomen." So he was pretty pumped when we got a chance to build our own. Yeah. It was kinda tiny. Pretty much the size he was used to from the plates. But the good thing about the tiny nomen: they're highly portable.

Easter.
Yes, Luke needs some dress shoes. But man do they get you on the shoes. They're like the price of adult shoes but with a life-span in the months range. Jerks. Another thing about Easter though: Luke discovered the chocolate egg. And now all chocolate is referred to as a "chi-choc egg." What's that all over your face, Luke? "I don't know. You tell me. Chi-choc egg?"

Three fish.
I think that this has improved in the last week (language development with this guy can be measured by the like hour), but for a while there Luke referred to any number of items over two as three. Put a single cracker in front of him and it's one cracker, two on his plate is two crackers, five crackers on his plate? Seven crackers on his plate? To Luke he's got three crackers. So when we took him to the Tennessee Aquarium, every single tank in the place had three fish! Very excitedly three fish! Look! Three fish! Ooooooh, three fish! Jesus needed two fish to feed the masses. Luke might need one more to make it work.

Anyway, here's a little movie-based snippet of the aquarium visit [movicon 8.6Mb Quicktime movie]. As with everything in his life, Luke attempted to talk/command the creatures behind the glass into doing what he wanted.

Gooooo Tech!
He wasn't talking so much the last time we made it down to Georgia Tech (an early season November b-ball game), but since then he's learned that yelling "gooooo Tech" is what you do when there are athletes throwing balls around. So we thought we'd all head down to a Tech baseball game and show him a bit more of the campus that Mommy and Daddy met on. Super fun stuff. Seeing him stroll across the grass like he didn't care that he was late for his Calc 3 class? Hilarious. Once we got to the game itself, he was pretty excited and then quickly disappointed when he realized that the fence separating him from the players meant that he couldn't chase down balls. Of course he'd think that he could go out on the grass and throw the ball around; he gets to do that in the backyard, doesn't he? We suddenly became the man holding him down. "Pleeeeese balls. Pleeeeese." These are the times when you realize that his logic is just way way different from your own, and you wish that you could figure out a way to explain difficult concepts like aging and athleticism and collegiate sports departments and rulebooks and stadium security chasing down field runners. But you can't so you go buy some peanuts and he's immediately distracted.