Having a ball

Mom, Dad and I survived last night's switch to Eastern Standard Time (aided in part by my stealth — and relatively odor-free — eleventh-hour poo, that kept me up a little longer than usual Saturday night, until my parents figured out what was going on). My late-night battle with Dad was brief, lasting only a half-hour until I threw in the towel and went back to bed. Then this morning I was up at about 6:20 a.m. (which, of course, was really 7:20 a.m.). In other words, it looks my transition to the time shift has been relatively smooth so far.

It's another bonding day for Mom and me, as Dad is still on weekend duty (he got off semi-easily last time around, but no such luck this weekend). Here's a new Ask Julia question from Jonah, who's about a year older than me and is the daughter of Dad's friend Jessica (not to be confused with my Aunt of the same name!). He read about my illness last week.

This is more of a tip than a question. I, too, love anything sweet that comes out of a plastic syringe, namely Tylenol. Something really fun to do is lunge for it in the aisle of the supermarket so everyone thinks Mom is shopping with a drug-addicted baby. Oh, and Julia, maybe I have missed something, but how many teeth do you have to show for all that chomping on things? What's your favorite thing to chew? I like my shoes. Mom says there are germs on shoes and I shouldn't eat them. Moms get upset when they almost crash the car trying to get a dirty shoe out of the baby's mouth. Try it sometime. Highly comical!

Thanks for the tips, Jonah. I thought I had gotten skilled at lunging for inappropriate objects to put in my mouth, but obviously I still have a lot to learn! As for your questions, I'm almost embarrassed to admit that after months of drooling, I still don't have a single tooth to show for my efforts. Mom and Dad have started checking my mouth every morning to see if anything has sprouted up. And my favorite thing to chew ... well, I'm an equal-opportunity muncher, but I'm partial to the old reliables, the 3 Fs: my fingers, fists and feet. They are so tasty and conveniently located, that I have to go with that trio.

You are probably wondering why this blog was titled "Having a ball." Because I finally got an Ask Julia question from someone other than Aunt Paula or Aunt Rebecca, I'm happy to share another of my videos for you, as promised. A couple weeks ago, Dad happened to be filming during the period of time each day when everything is hilarious to me. On this day, I cracked up everytime Dad threw my ball to (and at) me. Looking back, I'm not sure what was so funny, but at the time it was the funniest thing I had ever seen. Enjoy!