Mosh pit, here we come

Emmett's dad can't, for the life of him, figure out where Emmett picked up his new 'rockin out' pose.


Then, while going over some photos from last year's Olympics, he finds a clue.

Seems pretty obvious which parent will join Emmett in the third row at the Lady GaGa concert, and which one will wait in the car.

Another good yield from the viral driftnet

One otherwise quiet night this week, Emmett's parents listen to the heart-wrenching sounds of a dying kudu that has just been taken down by a pride of lions out on the savanna.

Crikey, that's no kudu. It's a pathetic Emmettilius stranmccannii who brought home the first malady of 2011. And moaned for hours about it.

Twenty-four hours later, not even a luxurious bubble bath can break his malaise. Woe is Emmett.

Uncle Colin saves the Bow watershed

Uncle Colin is in the water business. Having seen a couple of Emmett's previous bath shots, he points out the size disparity between a big soaker tub and Emmett's wee behind. One shiny new Rubbermaid bin later, Emmett's daily bathwater consumption is cut in half.

StranMcCann. Proudly tree hugging and fish kissing since 2005.

Mister, Mister, Mister Bubbles

Almost as impressive as Emmett's self-taught bathtub bubble blowing is his dad's unintentional success at maintaining the 'G' rating of this blog.

Tubs of New Zealand

Emmett didn't see, let alone experience, a single proper bathtub while in New Zealand. Fortunately, after several weeks of retraining Emmett has been brought back up to speed with his toddler tub-bathing demographic.

Strange affinity for people soup

"I'm so excited for you guys when he poops up to his neck."

That's what cousin Blake expressed to us back in June, having had the experience of a year with a baby of his own. Today, cousin Blake is excited, but not how you might expect.

Today was Emmett's bath day. Mom and Dad dutifully laid out towels, washcloths, soaps, filled the kitchen sink, and plunked him in. As washing proceedings began, Emmett reached the point of maximum relaxation. And then VOOM, he soiled the bath. Mom screamed. Dad rushed in. Emmett was oblivious. Mom and Dad emptied the sink, rinsed the chunks off Emmett, wrapped him in a dry towel, washed the sink, refilled it, and started over.



And then it happened again. Rinse. Wash. Repeat.

The third attempt (Mom and Dad acted quickly this time) yielded one clean child, and two traumatized parents.



Meconium was bad. This was worse. Only divine intervention will save Emmett's parents when he ups his game and finds a new way to unleash his wrath upon them.

Milk coma.

Also known as milk drunk, milk plastered, milk sloshed, and milk passed-out. Strange phenomenon that seems to manifest in newborn babies after they've done a few too many shots of mom's milk. I'd never heard of it, but now we see it immediately after most of Emmett's feedings. And boy, is it ever funny.













Oh yeah, today was also Auntie Clare's last day running interference for Emmett's parents (we love you, Auntie Clare!), and Emmett's first bath at home. A.J. the doula showed us how to get 'er done in the kitchen sink.