Puck's Progress

Our Friend Finn

2008-10-08T15:03:00.004-04:00

1/1/2004 (or thereabouts) - 10/8/2008.

He was a good dog (when he wasn't being a douche) and we miss him.

Prelude

2008-09-01T21:47:00.004-04:00

We've just returned from -- depending who you ask -- either 6.5 weeks (Anna, Sam, Finn) or 4 (me) weeks on the road. We've covered a lot of ground, AS&F mainly in the form of circles around New England and me most dramatically from Key West to Lubec, Maine, a span that comprises the southernmost and northernmost points of the U.S. Atlantic coast (look it up).

Needless to say, it will take a some time to compile the stories and photos of our travels and travails, but in the interim, I give you this to tide you over: my new favorite picture of Sam.

Man Adventure

2008-06-22T22:46:00.005-04:00

It's not really what you'd think. No cigars or hunting lodges. No drum circles or strip joints. Just a couple dudes and a camera hanging out on the Mall (as opposed to at the mall which would have provided a very different backdrop).

At least one of those guys was highly photogenic.

Of course there are more. To catch the rest, hop on over to Flickr .

El Gordo* en Mexico

2008-06-05T20:29:00.010-04:00

* Nickname given Sam by security guard at Puerto Vallarta airport.

Mexico is so two months ago, but I gave my word that you'd see pictures so you're gonna see 'em, dammit.

Here we have Sam's first dip in a pool, complete with transition from, "hey, assholes, this bathtub is way too cold!"...

... to "OK, I guess the floating divan chair might not completely suck."

But really, he preferred his time out of the water.

There was also some quality time with Cousin Nico wherein Sam totally coveted Nico's hat...

Co-opted it briefly for his own...

And then nearly had his head bitten off.

Oh, and also, there was a wedding.

Congrats, Ben and Caddie. Let us know when you want baby training...

Choppers

2008-05-14T21:21:00.004-04:00

We were a little concerned that we were going to have to start getting Sam fitted for baby dentures (apparently they do this in the Pillipines. Who knew?) But Sam came through.

What do you mean, you can't see them. Right there:

Someone was so obviously pleased with himself that it was time to move on to Cheerios.

OK, breakfast cereal remains a work in progress.

Sorry for the absurd delay in posting. April was a bit of a blur and I can't believe we missed the whole month. Soon, pix from Sam's first international sojourn.

Pachydermatitis

2008-03-28T20:42:00.005-04:00

So, seriously. No lie. Elephants!

For those who are familiar with our 'hood, that big brick building is the gym directly across the street from our house. We could have had the elephants over for tea (G&T's for the clowns...)

Sam seemed less than impressed, but his mother and her road soda were having a grand old time.

And, as promised, there was a street sweeper.

Next week? Kangaroo boxing in our back alley. Really!

(Not really.)

Easter Egg Scrum

2008-03-24T20:31:00.004-04:00

The White House's frilly-frocked egg-roll it ain't, but we did have quite a mad egg dash on Easter Saturday in our 'hood. Sam was a tad young to get a full sense of things, but he likes bright colors and seems to get extremely overstimulated in the presence of mobs of children, thus making him behave excellently for a time and then take lengthy naps. Win-win.

Anna has made much comedic hay out of pointing out that this was only a an Easter Egg "Hunt" in the same way that what Dick Cheney was doing when he shot his friend in the face could be considered "hunting." In reality it was more of a free-for-all with eggs strewn about in an open field thusly:

And then set upon by the madding hordes as such:

The whole ordeal left Sam a bit befuddled, though I did manage to score him a couple of plastic prizes before they could all be gobbled up by scabby-kneed, pointy-elbowed urchins.

This one was particularly grabby.

But who can blame him. When you're eight, free candy is free candy.

When you're 1/2, your parents get to eat your Tootsie Rolls.

Check back soon for highlights from Monday's Elephant Walk wherein a half-dozen pachyderms disembark from a train and parade right past our house. Followed, mercifully by a street sweeper...

6 months: It's all about thighs

2008-03-16T08:18:00.004-04:00

Long time no post and this one's gonna be all about the pictures, 'cause clearly we don't have time to deal with anything else.

The event for Sam's 6-month birthday (1 day after Anna's 30-somethingth) was a weekend with his new pal Read Elizabeth and her mom. I'll let the Michelin thighs say the rest:

Also, one important milestone... Sam gets to second base:

"No, no, Mr. Read Elizabeth's dad, I wasn't... I was just... she had something on her shirt."

Solid food takes some getting used to

2008-02-09T11:07:00.000-05:00

Sam was hitting all the milestones: supporting his head? Check. Sitting up? Ish. Doubled his birth weight? Hell yeah. He was 18 lbs as of Monday. So we figured hey, let's try some rice cereal. Which, by the way, is not terribly "solid."

I guess it wasn't an unqualified failure. Finn seemed to enjoy himself immensely, and now Sam is actually napping. In his crib. But let's just say there's a little room for improvement in the whole chew-chew-swallow sequence. (And yes, I do realize the chew-chew part comes later.)

Anyway, see for yourself.

And for you still pic folks, here's a couple 5-monthers.

Sam's Pre-Game

2008-02-03T17:14:00.001-05:00

Sam on the Mall, Super Bowl Sunday, 2008.

GO PATS!

1/3

2008-01-10T07:38:00.000-05:00

Tuesday was Sam's 4-month birthday. We also happened to be doing a quick shoot for his passport photo so we can prove he's not a terrorist baby on our trip to Mexico, so inspired by my friend Anna, we began the monthly documentation of Sam. Here are a few of the more quality out-takes:

Recovering Christmas

2007-12-27T08:47:00.000-05:00

For the past few years, Christmas had been losing its sparkle. The hassles and conflicts of battling traffic and airport crowds, sleeping in close quarters on furniture not designed for sleeping or on inflatable beds that don't alway hold their flate, eating enormous meals at off-hours, and corralling insolent dogs had turned Christmas into a chore.

Since the realities of my parents' divorce sent me reeling out of a Brunswick church in a near panic-attack state on Christmas Eve 2000, halfway through the third verse of "O Come All Ye Faithful", Christmas was no longer Christmas. Instead of the pile of generosity under the tree I saw the gluttony of American excess. Instead of the opportunity to reconnect with seldom seen relatives came the rediscovery of pet peeves and minor irritations.

Two years ago, this all came to a head. We were approaching the end of a period of relative homelessness, having bivouacked from Rhode Island to Venice, California so Anna could pursue her writing while we waited for my D.C. fellowship to kick in. After, a month in a sublet beach shack, and a month of house-sitting that became another month of house-guesting, we packed up and headed East, into a situation guaranteed to end with an overstayed welcome at the peak of the holidays.

Of course, we did better. We passed a nasty head cold around with the egg nog. Finn stole a pie, attacked our host's dog, and kept the cats holed up in the basement. He became known in family circles as "The Finn Who Stole Christmas." While partially hidden beneath a veneer of politeness, human interactions devolved to approximately the same point. And the capper came Christmas morning, when someone (who shall remain nameless) backed the car into a wall, extending our stay even further while we waited for the repair shop to open. We repaid the eternal patience of our host in the only way our dwindling bank account would allow--with a new toaster.

In 2006, though relatively stabilized in our own lives, we remained desperate to avoid any semblance of such debacles. While last year's host made stacks of toast and breathed a sigh of relief for the fate of her pies, we gave New England and the vast majority of our still-reeling relations a miss and jaunted off to Paris with our mothers. We had no concept, of course, that also along on that European vacation, was the one person who would start the process of restoring Christmas to its previous glory.

In fairness, Sam wasn't the only factor. As a family unit, we're simply in a much better place. We own a house, and I have an actual job that I love (most of the time) which pays an honest-to-God salary. Anna has continued to work steadily, and a fortuitously-timed writers' strike has given her a built-in maternity leave. And Finn has calmed to the point that he's passed his mantle of Grinch on to the next puppy in line (who also shall remain nameless).

It's no secret that kids make Christmas better. This year, Sam didn't yet have the manic excitement of the pre-schooler waiting on Santa, but the inevitability of Christmas Future was enough. The trees and wreaths smelled better. The colorful packages were generous, not gluttonous. And our family actually enjoyed each other's presence--as far as I could tell.

So now I'm sitting here in Bath, Maine, scene of the Christmas debacle of 2005, watching the snow start to fall over the Kennebec River. Sam's lying beside me with a full belly and, for the moment at least, a contented half-smile, one Christmas in the books, many more to come.

Bambino? Yes. Curse? No.

2007-11-14T20:56:00.000-05:00

One of the perks of working on the Hill is that people bring cool things there for us to ogle. Like the 2007 Red Sox World Series Championship trophy. Last time we saw it, it was being showered by Big Papi and the rest of the Sox.

Last night, though, it was in the House Committee on Energy and Commerce's hearing room, hosted by the Massachusetts delegation.

Sam was somewhat impressed by the trophy (note: bigger than he is)...

...but even moreso by the bling brought by the trophy's security detail.

Unfortunately, he hasnt' figured out how to close his fingers around things yet, or else we would now be the proud possessors of one 2004 World Series ring.

Still, it's nice to know that my boy is growing up in a world where the Red Sox are winners and the Yankees... well, no need to kick 'em when they're down. I mean, isn't that what we all want? For our kids to grow up with more advantages than we had?

Sam, you're well on your way.

Halloween 2007 - a study in tubular food

2007-11-12T09:24:00.000-05:00

Just pix today as I can only type so much with my one, non-Sam-holding hand.

Sam met Olympia in this outfit. My job is now secure for the foreseeable future.

Finn did not meet Olympia in this outfit, further solidifying my employment.

And, of course, Anna with her banana. Cabana not pictured.

A boy and his dog

2007-10-25T12:40:00.001-04:00

Yikes... two weeks since our last update. Sorry, kids, but things have been typically N-V-T-S-NUTS around here lately. Those of you with kids can relate. Those without simply can't. Sorry. We used to think we knew what it meant when people said "your life is about to change." We nodded and acquiesced, but we didn't KNOW. I didn't know for sure until I found myself secretly hoping, when the Red Sox were down 3-1 to Cleveland in the ALCS, that they would lose so I wouldn't have to stay up and watch any more games. Petty? Mabye. Emblematic? You bet your ass.

Meanwhile, Sam continues his climb up his own personal ladder of realization. These pictures are actually from about two weeks ago and document his first legitimate awareness of his older, hairier, 4-legged brother. (More recent pix will come this weekend for sure, something I can promise because for the first time since we got home from the hospital, we have no houseguests!)

Anyway, the evidence, starting with "The Sniff":

"The Lick":

"The Reaction":

"The Reconciliation":

and finally, "The Latch":

Yes, Sam did actually attempt to feed off Finn's nose, something that was much more amusing before Finn was diagnosed with giardia. But so far everyone seems to be holding up fine, so maybe you pretend I didn't share that tidbit and no one calls the Dept. of Child and Family Services on us, OK? OK.

I think we now have one of everything

2007-10-12T12:45:00.000-04:00

People love buying things for babies. We are delighted that our friends and family have proven themselves no exception to this universal truth. As you can see from the above photo, gifts we've received have ranged from the sublime (not pictured) to the ridiculous (pictured); the utilitarian (not pictured) to the frivolous (you think?); the traditional (um, no) to the bizarre (oh, yeah).

So first of all, THANK YOU. We thank you, Sam thanks you, and even Finn thanks you because there is now so much more to investigate. He particularly enjoys the stuffed animals. You are all amazingly wonderful people, we love you, and we love that you love Sam.

Now stop it.

In purchasing our first home, we opted for location over size. This means that Anna (and now Sam) has a neighborhood to explore and absorb while I'm off at work. It also means we are now completely bereft of storage space.

Sam has clothing to last until he's four, toys to occupy BOTH of his daily waking hours, a library of books, and all the tools of the baby-raising trade. But dammit, one more onesie and his closet is simply going to explode.

This is a happy problem. We are blessed, and we appreciate the avalanche of joy. We really do. He's a lucky boy, but I just think we're full up.

Until Christmas.

In the details

2007-10-06T15:44:00.000-04:00

The tiny bits.

These are actually from two weeks ago, so he's less tiny now, but it's been tough to find the time to post. 4 weeks today. Can't quite believe it. You people weren't kidding when you said it goes by fast...

(P.S. Go SOX!)

Two-week-iversary

2007-09-22T22:49:00.000-04:00

Hard to believe it's been two weeks since Puck/Sam made his debut. As other parents know, it feels alternately like two minutes and two decades. Either way, we toasted our boy at 2:40 this afternoon.

Sam feigned sleep for a while, but he was eyeing that Veuve the whole time.

We only left him alone for a minute, but I guess it doesn't take much champagne to put an eight-and-a-half-pounder down for the count.

We'll have to work on that tolerance before he gets to college.

While the family sleeps

2007-09-16T08:31:00.000-04:00

Proud dad, grabbing a few precious minutes to post a couple of quick pics of our boy. These are all from Sam's first 24 hours--first 3 at hour 1, and the last (with mom) from his first new morning on the planet. Updates will be sporadic until we work out this whole feeding thing, but keep checking back. There's much more Progress to be made...

SAMUEL THOMAS CONATHAN

2007-09-12T16:56:00.000-04:00

Quick post to let everyone know that we have a son!!! (And no, despite what "it's about time" said in the comment section, his name is not Connie. We're slightly more creative than that. Sheril.)

Samuel Thomas was born at 2:40 on Saturday. 8 lbs 2 oz, 21 inches. mom and baby doing great.

Yeah, yeah. bland, I know. But I'm effing tired, and have to go pick up the perscriptions at CVS and then take a nap.

More fun later, I promise. And PICTURES!

Stay tuned.

Quick update

2007-09-06T09:54:00.001-04:00

Nothing to see here. Revised due date September 5th has come and gone with no fanfare. Maybe the original date, September 7th, will prove more accurate. Stay tuned...

Labor Day?

2007-09-03T14:18:00.000-04:00

Indeed, there is labor on Labor Day. But it's not Anna's. It's my cousin Jenny's. Lucky mother... becomer. She started the process last night, and we've had no further updates, so it looks like Jenny's cashing in on her two-week head start over our Puck.

Meanwhile, we're doing a lot of sitting and waiting. Seeing many movies. Superbad = super awesome. The Simpsons = meh.

There was a call from some (notably the grandmothers-in-waiting) for pix of the nursery, and since "down the hall" seemed like a reasonable distance for Anna to travel, here you go:

See? Finn's impressed.

One feature worth noting is this:

No, not the diaper changing table. The collection of photos. It's the Great Wall of Child. We had a big space to fill and I found these 67-cent frames at Ikea. So I bought a shitload, and now we need to put kids in them. Send us your best ONE (OK, maybe TWO if you must) baby/kid picture, and the fruit of your loins can amuse the fruit of our loins while we loin-swaddle. We can handle jpegs, but if you've got a nice 4x6 print and can pop it in the mail, you'll get a better spot...

Finally, just for the record, this T-shirt is entirely inaccurate.

Week 38/39 - Dome Sweet Dome

2007-08-30T21:45:00.000-04:00

This is really getting ridiculous. My favorite part of the last week or so has been just walking places with Anna and watching the reactions she gets from passers-by. Ogling is the term that comes to mind. Frequently with a gasp of horror added on for good measure, and the ubiquitous question: "when are you due?" and an unconscious step back as though her water's about to burst on their shoes. (Or the equally ubiquitous, though less polite excalmation, "you look like you're about to pop!" This second one is always from guys. Usually from winos.)

Now, with the due date just around the corner--the docs moved us up to September 5th at Anna's last visit--it's been harder to convince Anna to leave the house, much less be photographed. But there was one place I'd always envisioned as the final stop on this city-wide photographic tour.

And honestly, I think it's best to just let the belly do the talking.

That's pretty much it for the big DC tour. A grand finale of neo-classical proportions. I have officially received word that this game is now over (though I'm guessing someone could be coaxed out for an encore).

And keep an eye on this space, because if Puck doesn't take the bait, I may be able to convince Anna to start playing "citizenship roulette" by crashing embassies one at a time. If we can get this kid born on foreign soil, dual citizenship's a lock. Here's hoping the big wheel doesn't stop on North Korea!

Week 37: Things that are bigger than Anna

2007-08-21T19:44:00.000-04:00

What's that, you say? There are things bigger than Anna's belly? I know it's hard to believe, but there are, in fact, numerous things right here in Washington DC. And I'm not even talking about the obvious ones like the Washington Monument or the Capitol Dome. We found plenty of 'em just by going to the south side of the Mall in response to a call for "something iconic." (Thanks, Anna S!)

We kicked off at the Air and Space Museum, home to a gazillion tourists, and also several important aircraft. But before I get to the pictures, I have a bone to pick with this place:

[BEGIN RANT]

How come we have an entire museum at the Smithsonian--one of just 6 on The Mall--and another satellite facility out by Dulles airport devoted to airplanes and spaceships, which have been around for less than a hundred years. Whereas if you ask them about ships, i.e. the whole reason we stumbled upon this continent in the first place, and the means by which more than 95% of goods enter our country to this very day, they just look at you blankly and say that there might be some fish at the National Aquarium in Baltimore?

This irks me. It also clearly relates to the unrelenting annoyance I get from watching endless news updates about 6 miners killed in a cave-in when fishing vessels go down without so much as a mention on a CNN crawl at the bottom of the screen. Or, on a broader scale, the fact that we have better maps of the surface of the moon and MARS than we do of the ocean floor RIGHT HERE ON EARTH!

[END RANT]

OK. Enough of that. Needless to say, there were plenty of things at the Air and Space Museum that are more massive than Anna's belly.

The Spirit of St. Louis (far left), the Chuck Yeager mobile (orange one in the back), and the large speedy looking blackish jet thing are clearly mas grande.

Also giganticer? These missiles. They're so damn violent and destructive, you can barely make out my family three stories below.

This astronaut's pretty gargantuan, too.

Having basked in enough avian glory, we decided to move outside where there were yet other items from the art world that made Anna's gut appear to belong to a tiny titmouse. Like this colossal... thing... outside the Hirshhorn:

Anna has always likened it to a cosmic-sized forkful of spaghetti, but I think Lichtenstein had something slightly less pasta-ish in mind.

The Hirshhorn also hosts a fantastic sculpture garden. We were especially hoping to see Picasso's "Pregnant Woman (First State)" but much to our chagrin, she was in storage. Anna offered to stand in her place for a small fee, but the guard wasn't biting. So much for college tuition money. Picasso's knocked-up chickie would have been smaller than Anna's belly anyway, and thus would have completely ruined the whole theme of this entry. Fortunately, there were several other huger objets d'art.

This dude is ripped, and clearly far enormouser than Puck's homestead:

If only he had legs and wasn't so far away from this Amazonian, bodacious babe, they'd be perfect for each other:

But of course our tour wouldn't be complete without photographic evidence of the single most astoundingly titanic thing in all of our great not-really-a-state: George W. Bush's ego, in evidence here, at the Department of Education. Who else would have the gall to christen a project "No Child Left Behind" and then completely fail to provide it with adequate funding. Maybe if we hadn't spent half the program's budget on these spiffy, evocative old-timey entrancways for DoE headquarters there would be three or four more children actually not getting left behind.

Week 36: there is NOOOOO... Week 36

2007-08-20T08:44:00.000-04:00

Week 36 was officially designated "work on the nursery and don't take any photos" week, but fear not, intrepid blog-perusers, Week 37 pix are fully pixellated and will be posted tonight (or tomorrow at the latest). In the meantime, we were at our first location on Saturday and figured we should shoot a follow-up to give a true picture of Puck's decidedly impressive development.

C'mon, hop in the way-back machine with us and go all the way back to April (week 22) at Roosevelt Island when this whole charade started and we thought Anna was getting big:

Boy were we wrong... The reprise from Saturday:

Even Finn's gotten bigger (can you tell?). The vet told us last week that he's gained about 5 lbs. Sympathy weight.

Skip this post if you're only here for the baby action

2007-08-11T09:27:00.000-04:00

Many of you know that I wrote my thesis on development of offshore wind energy in the U.S. Of course, you can't talk about that without talking about everyone's favorite project, Cape Wind. As it turns out, I could have just given the whole thing a miss and let the Daily Show handle it. The video is here.

But while you're watching the shots outside the gatehouse at the Oyster Harbors Club, know that the Daily Show somehow failed to incorporate perhaps the greatest of all ironies: the symbol of this esteemed organization, based on the signature structure located about 100 yards due east of the guardhouse itself, and displayed on everything from security stickers on their cars to the gin-and-tonic glasses in the clubhouse is...

... wait for it...

a windmill.

Interlude: skinny bitch

2007-08-11T09:12:00.000-04:00

Last night we went to the Orioles-Sox game at Fenway south (AKA Camden Yards) courtesy of Karen's family's season tickets. The game itself was a somewhat painful experience, so we'll leave that bit out. The interesting bit came in the second inning when another pregnant woman and her husband took the seats next to us. To me, she seemed just past the "I'm not 100% sure she's pregnant, so I better not ask" phase. First guess, maybe 6 months along. Turns out the skinny bitch was due on September 6th, one day BEFORE Anna.

Clearly Puck could kick her baby's ass.

And no, that's not the S.B. in the photo. That's freshly vindicated O's fan, Karen, who already has her own four kids, thanks.

Finn has made it clear to us that one baby is plenty for starters. More just makes him nervous.

Week 35: Rain forests aren't humid, are they?

2007-08-09T22:04:00.000-04:00

In the comments for week 33, our friend Anna suggested that we start taking requests. A brilliant thought, so if anyone has any ideas, do spill. Clock's ticking, though and we've still got some non-negotiables left to document, so make 'em snappy and make 'em good.

Meanwhile, with the record-setting heat wave laying on top of the city like an obese, sweaty aunt*, we figured an indoor photo shoot was on tap for this week. So we picked... an indoor jungle. Perhaps the only roofed-in locale with a dewpoint higher than the outdoors. Now that's some A-1 government-quality thought process you're lookin' at right there.

We hit the U.S. Botanic Garden, where, back in December, I took the first ever picture of Puck, though s/he was approximately the size of nothing at all, and we had no idea s/he was along for the ride:

And no, you can't actually see Puck in this picture, but s/he's in the person who's in the picture, so that counts right? Of course, we had to return to the frond in question for posterity's sake. Sligtly different look this time:

Both frond and belly have grown a bit.

From the ridiculous, we went sublime: the orchid room.

And finally, for those of you looking for the full girth disclosure:

This baby's got to be showing up before September, right?

* Disclaimer: Neither Anna nor Mike have any aunts that are either obese or sweaty.

Week 34: More Maine traditions

2007-08-09T21:26:00.001-04:00

Apologies for lateness are getting old. But now my bosses have gone back to Maine and Alaska for the month of August, and basically all of their staff who aren't waiting for a baby to drop have buggered off as well, so I'm going to have ample time to keep you abreast of future developments.

In week 34, Anna was away, and I was here, minding the dog. By the time Anna got back, I had ordered the "remote training" collar. Nowhere in the manual for this product can one find the word "shock." Still, damn if he doesn't come when he's called these days.

But I digress...

One of Anna's New England activities was a good old-fashioned henna-ing. I don't know about you, but when I think of Maine, the first three things come to mind: lobster, my boss (who has taken a strong stance against the President's "strategy" in Iraq, making us all very proud), and henna.

Since I wasn't in attendance for this episode, I'll let the pictures do the talking:

And now, after three weeks of travel to L.A. for business, and Maine and New Hampshire for Q.T. with the fam, Anna's got a doctor's mandate to stay the eff put, and we can find time to resume the Washingtonian photo scavenger hunt.

Week 33 - Honest Abe

2007-07-30T21:31:00.001-04:00

I know, I know. Wicked long layoff. Sorry. But two weekends ago we had a shower here in DC which included houseguests, and that complicated the weekend and made the pregnant lady tired tired tired. As such, we failed to go on our photoshoot on Sunday. Fortunately, the houseguests, our friends Shawn and Sarah (who, it should be noted were separately Shawn and Sarah when they arrived at our home, but by all indications were rather collectively Shawn and Sarah by the time they left) did some excellent photojournalistic documentation during a moonlit trip to the Lincoln Memorial and environs, so week 33 is officially "guest photographer week" here at Puck's Progress.

Actually, before we got to Abe's Pagoda...

No, no, you must have misunderstood. I said "Abe's Pagoda."

Sheesh. Sight gags are too damn easy on the internet.

Anyway, before we got to the Lincoln Memorial we stopped off for a quickE=MC2 with Albert Einstein who's camped outside the National Academy of Sciences.

From there it was an easy wander over to the Lincoln, and we arrived just as the Park Ranger with the bathroom key was leaving. Which was only a problem because he left BEFORE we knew he was the one with the bathroom key. And even so, this was only a problem for one of us (guess who). So our visit was short. But Anna managed to stand still long enough for this time lapse of the Washington Monument and Reflecting Pool.

Yeah, we've used this location before, but this time Anna's not being fondled by a reluctant biker. So I consider that an improvement. And if you need an indication of how far the belly has come since then, head on back to week 25 for a reminder.

Meanwhile, the bladder clock was ticking, so we only had a few minutes, but Shawn did grab what might be the shot of the series if only because it has given me the ultimate confidence that this whole "being a parent" thing is going to work out just fine.

I just don't think there's any way I can fuck this up with a disembodied Abe Lincoln floating over my left shoulder. Unless, of course, there's a disembodied Abe Vigoda floating over my right. If I catch wind of that, all bets are off.

Look for week 34 before it's time to post week 35...

Week 32 - Hoya Saxa

2007-07-15T19:39:00.000-04:00

My initial thought upon bringing Puck to Georgetown for the first time was that this would be a fantastic opportunity to show him or her--and through the magic of digital photography, you--all the places where our posse did ourselves proud during four years of nose-to-the-grindstone academic and athletic achievement.

The ivy outside Village A 87 where Sell "reverse drank" a funnel of Milwaukee's Best.

The square of cement outside Reiss that leapt up and shattered G's navicular bone on an innocent trip home from the Tombs. Running backwards.

The second floor balcony of 3413 R Street from which Paul dumped a spaghetti pot full of rancid kitchen leftovers on my unsuspecting head.

Unfortunately 3413 is a swank, privately owned home now, likely complete with a lobbyist and a golden retriever in the backyard. Wonder how long it will take them to realize they're sitting on about 13 years worth of toxic waste worthy of a SuperFund designation. And the rest of those halcyon locales of yore really don't look like much to an eye bereft of our shared intellectual experience. Stripped of its "NO OGLING" and "NO FLAUTING" signs, the front of Henle 40 sports nothing more than hardpacked dirt, chipped brick, and mistreated venetian blinds.

So instead, we went to the gift shop.

And then we did venture out to some of the more classic bits of campus. The lawns and halls trod by three generations of Conathans: Ed ('42), John ('67) and me ('94).

No pressure, though, Puck...

...there's no need to follow in ALL your father's footsteps.

Week 31 - Delusions of grandeur

2007-07-08T19:24:00.001-04:00

It's starting to get a little cranky here in Conathan-land. Those pregnancy books don't lie: first trimester = tired and pissy, second trimester = high-flyin' good times, and third trimester = tired, pissy, AND bloated. So I started thinking to myself: there must be someone more unpopular than the guy who knocked up his wife and now gets to cool himself off with a nice gin and tonic, sleep through the night without getting up to pee three times, and NOT carry around an extra thirty pounds.

And then it came to me:

With junior's approval ratings slumping to just 26% in the latest Newsweek poll--only slightly north of Julio Lugo's batting average--the White House was a mortal lock for Place Where Mike Is Not the Least Popular Guy Around. So off we went.

This was not Puck's first visit to Casa W. Back in late January, one of my co-workers was kind enough to set us up on a tour of the West Wing. Here we are, as a matter of fact, in the Rose Garden. I know, it's dark, and there are no roses. But trust me. That portico thing in the background that you can barely make out? You recognize that, don't you? Outside the Oval Office? Where Martin Sheen goes to brood and make his really hard decisions? Work with me here.

It was on this trip that Anna endeared herself to the Bush Administration. I'm expecting some kind of executive branch appointment any day now. We were standing outside the Roosevelt Room, and when the conversation took this delightful turn:

TOUR GUIDE (AKA, SPECIAL ASSISTANT TO THE PRESIDENT): Over there on the wall is Teddy Roosevelt's Nobel Peace Prize. He is the only sitting US President ever to have been awarded one.

ANNA: Oh yeah? How's it look for George?

[LONG BEAT OF STRAINED SILENCE]

TOUR GUIDE: Not good.

Needless to say, we weren't invited back in for iced tea and a dip in the pool. We were left to commune with the hoi polloi out front.

Naturally, some of the rabble were more rousing than others. We were really hoping this guy had a website we could direct you to, but apparently his campaign to become president via Constitutional amendment hasn't made the leap into cyberspace.

He seemed like a nice enough guy, but presidential material? It's just not that hard to get your own blog together and cobble up a few planks for your campaign platform. At least he was clever enough to cut an eye hole in his head sign.

A call for change is in the air outside the White House, but the question remains: a change to what? If "Me for President" ain't it, and I feel pretty confident he ain't, why not look to some fresh blood?

Puck in '08!

Week 30 - Puck puts down roots

2007-07-07T18:19:00.000-04:00

Last week was likely the pinnacle of our summer. I know, we're peaking early. But given the increasing frequency of the under-the-ribs harrassment Anna's getting from her uterine tenant, and the sultry torpidity of DC's infamous, swampy summer weather, the time we spent at the Conathan family beach shack at Saquish is the early clubhouse leader for top dog days. Finn would clearly agree.

A Saquish (pronounce it SAY-kwish) tutorial for the unannointed: it's a strip of barrier beach about halfway between Cape Cod and Boston--check the map--closest town is Duxbury. There are no utilities, no phones, and no paved roads. Boat or four wheel drive are
your only transporation options. Technically, cell phones work out there, though Saquish purists frown upon their use, and I noticed that blackberry batteries have a mysterious tendency to lose their charge upon reaching Gurnet Head and without a power outlet to crank them back up, what's a congressional staffer to do? Not work, apparently. I opted for a lot of sitting on my ass and drinking beer.

Anna, meanwhile, sat for pictures. Or, occasionally, laid down and hosted some of the local tidepool dwellers.

Only slightly more than an hour's drive from Boston, including a 30 minute sojourn over the dunes, the beach is literally unknown to the vast majority of even lifelong Massholes (no offense intended, it's just a far more pronouncable term than "Massachusettsians"). Even cyberspace has yet to discover this oasis of rusticity--google "saquish" and hit "I'm feeling lucky" and you'll end up at a site hosted by our friends Jamie and Molly Talbot with a slate of photos from a weekend excursion in 2003.

The house itself was built by my grandfather, Ed Conathan, after his return from World War II, and the place has borne witness to the ongoing evolution of the six Conathan kids of my father's generation, and the eleven Conathan/Kopke/VanOrden kids of my generation. I don't know whether my cousin Jenny (due in August) has ventured out to the cottage with her cargo, but it was a good feeling to deliver a fourth generation.

We're back in DC now, and into the home stretch. More monuments tomorrow since we're already on to week 31--lack of electricity makes for late blogging. The mercury's supposed to hit 99, so maybe we'll find some more of those nice fountains around town... Until then, signing off...

Week 29 - It's a museum for Lord's sake. Show some respect.

2007-06-24T19:22:00.001-04:00

It's hard to be as cultured and classy as we are. After spending parts of this afternoon in the National Gallery of Art and the Natural History Museum, I'm fairly convinced that the baby we've got brewing is a little Renaissance (wo)man who will make Leonardo DaVinci look like Ralph Wiggum (yes, you non-Simpsons watchers, Ralph's the little cartoon paste-eater over yonder).

After Anna's exhibitions among our Nation's historic treasures, I'm pretty much full to burstin' with pride that our Puck is marinating in someone with the common decency and good sense to protect innocent eyes from smut like this:

and the improvisational skill and manual dexterity to accomplish the likes of this*:

There were more people kicking around these air conditioned marble halls this afternoon than Monet's got paint smears. Moms, dads, kids, sullen teens, grandmas, the whole lot (and almost every one in a tank top!) but not one was doing anything even remotely like this stuff. I mean, look at these people. Show me which one is classier than Anna. (She's the one in brown... without the tusks.)

And yes, I'll pay for that joke for the rest of my life, so I hope you enjoyed it. Please tell her how beautiful and radiant and classy she is and maybe I'll get to meet the child at some point before high school.

In fact I'll do it myself. I'll even give her a medal or five. Something nice from the 16th century or so. Italian, I think. She sure as hell deserves it.

Schedule may get rocky next week as there's no wireless at Saquish. Apologies in advance.

* and yes, Rhode Islanders, that IS the "pregnant pterodactyl" made famous all over South County, but mostly at the Muse on martini night as the opening act for the Gin Monster.

Week 28 - Hot and Tardy

2007-06-19T20:07:00.001-04:00

This week we bring you two icons of Capitol Hill. This decision is in no way related to the fact that we didn't get back from our weekend trip in time to take any pictures on Sunday and had to scramble to come up with something we could do tonight after work.

We were hoping that we'd find a cotillion of pro-lifers on the front steps of the Supreme Court, waggling their placards and praising Jesus, but it's getting to that slow time in DC when the humidity percentage does battle with the temperature to see which can reach 100 first, and that really cuts back on the pep of even the most fetus-loving zealot. We settled for this creepy-looking bronze lawyer baby out front.

We did manage to attract the attention of one security guard, but his main concern was preventing Anna from being captured on camera passed out on the steps. Too bad, sucka! The Constitution expressly protects my right to photograph my pregnant wife wherever the hell I want. Keep your hands off my uterus!

Then in search of a quieter experience, we wandered down the block to the Library of Congress. They have a nice fountain, and we thought long and hard about wading in it, but decided that Puck's first night in jail should be the result of his or her own raucous efforts, and we didn't want to spoil it.

Oh, and for those of you who tried and failed to leave comments last week, I've changed the settings to allow you to do so without logging in. Freedom of speech RULES! And you never know, maybe you'll end up in the Library of Congress...

Update coming

2007-06-19T10:14:00.000-04:00

Spent all together too much time on I-95 last weekend, so the update has been delayed, but there should be new photos here by tonight...

Week 27 - Best Supporting Monument

2007-06-11T20:29:00.001-04:00

At the Oscars, they always throw the audience a nice bone relatively early in the program. Usually it's the Best Supporting Actor and/or Actress Award. Something to butter up the crowd and flash a few familiar faces before descending into the drudgery of Best Costumes and Phil Collins being earnest and stupid Best Screenplay--like anyone gives a shit about writers.

So this week is bone week, lucky Anna trackers. You get a break from DC obscurity, and a little reminder of your 10th grade social studies field trip: The Jefferson Memorial. Situated on the lonely far shore of the Tidal Basin and often skipped on those scenic Monuments-by-Night tours due to its proximity to the seamy underbelly of the eternally "gentrifying" Southwest Waterfront, the Jeff has always gotten my nod for Best Supporting Monument. It doesn't get much screen time, but it does a damn fine job with the few token lines it's been given.

By rights, this should end this with a contrived joke delivered by a half-drunk A-lister, but since I don't know any half-drunk A-listers, I'll skip that bit and move right on to this week's visuals.

And just in case you wanted a flashback to that 10th grade field trip...

Week 26 - Return to the Homeland

2007-06-10T23:15:00.000-04:00

Anna and I have just returned from a few days meandering the lands of our youth, not unlike Trot Nixon, who roamed Fenway's right field during the wrong half-innings wearing a foreign uniform while his 7-sporting doppelganger JD Drew nearly cost Josh Beckett his perfect record. No, JD, we're not saying "Drooooooooo!" In fact, there was a classic member of Red Sox Nation a few rows back who wasn't saying anything I can print in a family newsletter. Apparently he hadn't heard that the home team was enjoying a 13 1/2 game lead over the Bombers at the time of our visit, or that we actually won this World Series thing recently, and maybe it's time to relax just a tad. Stil, the bulging vein in the side of that guy's neck had more pop in it than our $70 million right-fielder's bat. The gaggle of septegenarian hens behind us came to the conclusion that, "he's not fit to wear Trot's number." We concur.

Also on the agenda during our visit, various Maine-ly activities, including several little league outings featuring at least a handful of players showing more zing than the anti-Trot, and the week's other highlight, our lobstering trip on Friday morning. It's tough to take pictures when your hands are covered with herring guts, so I didn't get a ton of documentation on the boat, but we did pull up an egger or two. We V-notched her nice and legal-like (Maine lobstermen mark all egg-bearing females which, once returned to the water are never legal to catch. You can see this one's fresh notch on the second tail fin from the left...) and safely returned her to the deep with her precious cargo of future lobster rolls. But I had to document these two pregnant ladies together.

That's all from the homeland. Tune in next week as we kick off DC in June with some kind of celebration of ludicrous humidity. Might as well embrace it. Gonna be a loooong sticky summer.

Week 25 - Rolling Thunder

2007-06-10T23:05:00.001-04:00

Monuments pepper DC like sequins on a prom dress, so Memorial Day provides ample opportunity for quiet reflection on the sacrifices made by our soldiers in conflicts past and present. As of this afternoon, we can honestly say that there is no group of people who do a better job of remembering the dead, the wounded, the POWs and MIA than bikers. Seriously. You have no idea.

Rolling Thunder consists of tens of thousands of motorcycles that have descended on the city each of the past 20 Memorial Day weekends to carry the flag for POWs/MIAs and veterans' rights. Not exactly make for quiet reflection, but these folks do have a way of making their point. Unfortunately, for all their lamenting about the quagmire that was Vietnam, it seems no one actually paid attention when planning our latest campaign. Interestingly enough, their parade passes directly behind the White House. Too bad there's no one awake inside to hear it.

But enough of my yakkin'. On to the good stuff. Hot dogs and beer and Puck at 25 weeks (BYO hot dogs and beer).

Week 24 - The Awakening

2007-06-10T22:59:00.000-04:00

This week's installment of Expanding Anna comes to you from the
southern-most point of Washington, DC, a little-known promontory located at the tip of Potomac Park known as Hains Point. The northern end of Potomac Park is bounded by the Tidal Basin of cherry blossom fame, and home to the Jefferson Memorial (look for Jeff in an upcoming installment--he'll be the self-righteous one in the topcoat). This was Mike's first trip to Hains Point, which, aside from its riparian status as confluence of the Potomac and the Anacostia (limpio y navigable!) and the reponderance of recreational fishermen seeking the elusive three-eyed Springfield Nuke Trout, really offers only one interesting feature. But it's a doozy.

"The Awakening" is a five-piece sculpture of a really big dude trying to bust his way out of the Earth. Kind of like the creature popping out of Sigourney Weaver's lieutenant in "Alien," but with fewer teeth and only one mouth. Hopefully Puck won't take a page out of this guy's book when it comes time for him/her to emerge.

And now, on to the evidence (in anatomical order from top to bottom):

Week 23

2007-06-10T22:55:00.000-04:00

This week was a bit of a whirlwind, with Granny Babs in town for a
barrage of home improvement missions, but we managed to squeeze in a
few minutes in the National Gallery's sculpture garden, producing two
new images for your enjoyment (including one of Puck's earliest solo
efforts).

The National Archives (shown here in the background) contains such
historical documents as original copies of the Declaration of
Independence and the U. S. Constitution. The fountain in front of it
contains water (I hope). Anna contains Puck.

And here's Puck with "Cheval Rouge" by Alexander Calder. Doesn't look
much like a red horse to us either, but maybe that's because we're not
French.

Anna's Expansion - Week 22

2007-06-10T11:38:00.000-04:00

"The only thing I like better than hunting buffalo is having my picture taken with a pregnant lady. Nice bump." --Theodore Roosevelt

This is the first in a weekly series of Anna and Puck (and sometimes Finn) at some of DC's finest landmarks. Tune in each week to chart their progress and learn about our fair city and your Nation's history!