OCCUPATION?

At the tender age of 7 weeks, you are on your way to becoming a part of the jet set. In preparation for our upcoming trip to the 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver, BC, you're getting your very first passport!

Yeah, I know what you're thinking, this isn't one of your better photos. But when you're dealing with a fussy baby that would rather look at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling than the photographer, you take what you can get. I'll make it up to you though. When you get your driver's permit, we'll make sure it's a great photo. I promise.

Your passport application threw your dad and me for a loop. Height? I was overwhelmed with the math of trying to figure out how many feet and inches you were. I lied and put 2 feet, so I wouldn't have to do any calculations. Looking back on it, it should have been 1 foot 9 inches. Hair color? Reddish brown today, but who knows what it'll be 3 months from now. I put brown. Eye color? Gray. But wait, there was no gray listed as an option! We're 99.9% sure you'll be a brown eyed girl (since when did a half Japanese kid ever have blue eyes?). So, I settled for brown.

Occupation? Occupation?!? Since when does a 7-week old have an occupation? Cry baby? Domestic diaper wetter? Early morning alarm clock? Blob? We decided on the most appropriate option...child. Salary: weekly allowance. Benefits: medical, dental, vision, free room and board, clothing allowance, all major holidays and summers off, plus an all expense paid trip to the 2010 Winter Olympics. Enjoy it while you can, this will probably be the best occupation you ever have.

MONKEY SEE, MONKEY DO

Once again I'm avoiding the dreaded task of handwriting thank you's for the mountain of baby gifts you've received from so many thoughtful family and friends. I've been able to put it off the past 6 weeks, in part thanks to you arriving 2.5 weeks early.

You came so early that we managed to miss the family baby shower that Grand-Aunt Carol and Great-Grandma Ryuko were throwing for us. Luckily it was a joint shower not only for us, but for Aunt Lori and Cousin Saiyan (named after Lori's deceased dog, but that's another story in itself) as well. So, it wasn't a complete wash for all of our guests.

At 2:00 PM on October 11, 2009, all 5 pounds 4 ounces and 19 inches long of you made it's arrival into the world, while our guests were sipping punch and playing those silly shower games. I have to confess that I'm a little disappointed I missed the shower. I'm probably one of the few people in the state of Oregon that enjoys playing those goofy shower games, but will never publicly admit to it.

Up until this baby shower, I was all caught up on the thank you's. But, with the happenings of a newborn (you), the thank you's kept piling up as the gifts kept pouring in. You're quite popular. I've decided this is the week I'm going to tackle them. But first I'm starting this blog for you.

Why? I wish I could say I thought of it on my own, but really a Facebook friend started one for her son, and I thought it'd be a great gift for you. Especially since I have yet to start filling out the baby book I bought for you. "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery," according to Charles Caleb Colton. So, thank you Siri. Monkey see, monkey do.

Facebook friend, you ask? Yeah, not like a friend-friend, but a Facebook friend. It's hard to explain the nuances between the two, but let me try. Siri's a dear friend of Aunt Meghan's, and Grandma Kathy is good friends with Siri's mom. Both Siri and her mom attended my wedding, and I've given Siri dining recommendations once when she came back to Portland. Also, I met Siri's little baby boy at Aunt Meghan's wedding this past September. Thus, Facebook friends. Or in other words, more like acquaintances. Makes complete sense now, right?

OK, enough procrastinating. You officially have a blog dedicated to you, from me, your mom. Now back to the thank you's.