elliott james lipp

news, news, news! my friend cathy lipp had her baby boy on tuesday! elliott james lipp was born at 11:06 aug. 7 - everyone is happy and healthy.
i would have posted a photo of the little guy if, um, i had it. his slacker parents haven't sent one - you'd think they had a newborn to take care of or something.
meanwhile, tayloe keeps finding new things to get into. it took him 10 minutes to work his way out of this basket.
aren't those cute orange pants he has on? i switched to cloth diapers last week. i know, who does that this late in the game, right? i honestly wish i'd done it sooner. i do a stupid amount of laundry a week anyway, so i haven't really noticed that much difference. i bought some great liners and over pants on sale and already have a bunch of cloth inserts, so it was just a matter of putting it all together.
getting them - or any diaper - on in peaceful manner is something else entirely.
i'm going to make a million dollars inventing a stand-up diaper changing station that you can strap a kid into.
here's what my daily conversations with t2 sound like:
me: stand up and let's change your pants
t2: bababababababa
me: hold still now. still. still. hold still. look!!! a car!! right there!!! in front of you! ooohhh, what a nice car! car! car! red car! your red car! hold still (etc, etc, etc )
t2: aaaahahahaha. bababa. mama mama mama. DADA?
me: dada's working. he's not here. i'm here. hold still.
t2: DADA? DADA? DADADADADADADADA.
me: ok, we're almost done. look! another car! a car! WWWHHEEE! play with that car. (SLAM)
no, we don't throw cars, we roll cars. see (one hand putting diaper on, one hand rolling the car) roll. not throw, roll. roll cars.
t2: DDDDAAAAADDDDAAA? dada? dada? dada? dadadadadada
me: let's work as a team. we're almost done. almost done. almost ...
(t2 sits down and inevitably squishes a turd into any one of our persian rugs. then, he makes a break for it and finds something else to throw.)
me: sigh. (pull out the big guns and put a ball on a nearby table, prompting him to crawl toward it and stand up. 'he can't possibly fall for this again,' i think.)
t2: ba? ba? ba?
me: yes, that's a ball. hhhheeeey, i know! you should get that ball! that's your ball! get the ball! it's over here ...
(sucker ...)
t2: ba. ba. mama? dada? mama? dada? DADA? DADA? DADA?
me: DADADADADA is NOT here. FOCUS, CHILD!
it's cute that he's really attached to tayloe, unless i'm trying to get him to do something he doesn't want to do in which case he nearly always screeches for his dad. and here i was believing what everyone said about little boys being ssssssoooooo attached to their mother. hrumph.