Sure, this will be another post about why I never post. I guess you write about what you know and all I know is that I never seem to have enough time to sit and write. Or read. Or several other things which I may or may not have done before Max came along. don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that my boy has ruined anything for me, quite the opposite, really. Having a rapidly growing little baby of my own design in the house has simply served to reorganize my priorities (which is just a nice way of saying "the baby takes up x-amount of time, outside of which there is precious little left over for anything non-baby related). Speaking of the baby, here are some recent pictures of him for you to peruse and ooh-and-aww at:


The boy is now currently pushing 8 months, but this photo was taken the day he turned 7 months. As you can see, Max simply cannot believe he is that old. This, in my opinion, is a good visual representation of what the originators of the interrobang had in mind.


Apparently overals and a red shirt can turn even the surliest of infants into little bundles of joy. This is not to say that Max is surly. Not all the time, at least and certainly not while wearing overalls (and a red shirt).


Not that I have any doubts, but this would be exhibit A if I ever had to prove paternity of the boy. Just for reference, exhibit B, C, D and, of course, E.


Here you see that, even when I'm talking to my buddy Andy about his fucked-up job situation, the boy will patiently hang with me. He's so good at sitting up on his own now...


Max has the (only slightly annoying) habit of completely ignoring whomever happens to be holding him while appearing to find everyone else in the room utterly fascinating. In fact, the rule is that if you want Max to smile at you, give him to someone else.


No, Max hasn't been rootin' around in poopy, he'd been eating (and obviously enjoying) the "garden vegetable" variety of mushed-up baby foods. Overall, Max is a real good eater. He's just kind of messy.


Well hello. How are you? I'm just killing time and chilling on the floor. Care to join me?


this is one of those "best pictures ever." I think I have three so far. All of the "best of" collection will be hung on to and then blown up and displayed proudly when he brings home his first date or something.

So there you are. Some pictures of the kid. Let me check to see if there's anything I need to follow up on and update from the last time I actually posted...

Baseball: It's Over Until Next Year For Me...
So the Cubs (the 28 and older MSBL team which I was proud to have played on this past season) finished with only the one win, an anomolous 1-run victory against the Twins early in the season. Due to some strange circumstances, the worst team in the league (us, in case you weren't paying attention earlier) made the playoffs by default. We ended up facing those same Twins in said playoff game. This time, though, the one-run victory went their way. Overall, I'm extremely pleased with the way the season went for me. I batted right around .350 for the season, was hit by just about every pitcher in the league and logged a significant amount of time playing both catcher and first base...Not at all bad for a fat guy who hadn't played real baseball since he was 13. I'm looking forward to next year...

All-Hallow's Eve Is Coming...
In fact, tonight was the night of the Farnes' big annual Halloween party which we traditionally attend. We had every intention of doing so this year, debuting Max as a little bee, but Max had other ideas. Contrary to form for the last few days, Max went down for a marathon nap right around 6:30 that ended up lasting almost 3 hours, after which he had to be changed and fed and generally wrangled. This process placed us at a point on the clock where it was no longer feasible to attend the party. Perhaps you've heard the term "point of diminishing returns?" We would've had to get everyone dressed and loaded in the car and drive for 40 minutes and would've had maybe an hour before the boy got fussy and crabby again and put to bed.

Since the actual Halloween falls on a weekday this year, each department at the agency I work at drew decades (except for accounting, who drew "the future") and are expected to dress up in a manner which reflects whichever chunk of time was drawn. While the drawing was going on, I was fortunate enough to do the honors for the art department. I instantly thought about trying to fake something which would make it look like I drew the 1950s, but was on the spot and couldn't muster up any trickery. Instead, I played it straight and, wonder of wonders, drew the 1950s anyway. I'm trying to think, though...I may be one of only 2 who will take it seriously and actually dress completely in 50s garb in my department. It's all good though, as the kids say, because I picked up some rockin' new threads from Daddy O's for the occasion, including two sweet hats from Village Hat Shop which I will be able to wear outside of Halloween. There's also going to be a potluck lunch (which I will not participate in due to my odd neuroses of people in costumes making me nauseous) and decade-specific karaoke which I really should volunteer to run. It's a little bit of extra effort, but I'm very well equipped to do a good job with it as opposed to one of the VPs who "has a machine." I guess I'll volunteer for such things on Monday.

When It's All Said and Done, it IS Just a Game...
I've mentioned before that, in my oh-so-copious spare time, I officiate high school and middle school football and wrestling. It sure does seem that the mere act of wearing a striped shirt seems to bring out the worst in people. One constant that I've figured out without much effort to this point is that the fans, in general, have a very shaky understanding of the rules AT BEST. This problem can lead to problems, the likes of which I've learned to laugh off. I've definitely heard or been called just about everything so far, usually by misguided, overly-emotional fans (almost always of the losing team...Go figure). This past Friday night, however, these "fans" at the game I was working got so worked up that the crew I was part of needed a police escort to get safely off school grounds. if nothing else, it'll make for a fun story to recount, especially to future new officials making their first trip to this particular school...

Awesomecasts...Yeah...Haven't Forgot...
I still have a couple of podcasts in the can and need to find time to produce and post them. That's all I have to say about that...And, now that I think about it, I'm pretty much done typing this wee post. As always, thanks for stopping by...You kids have a fine couple of months now...

Labels: Baby max, indignities, lame stories, Phrickin' Photoblogs, sports