birthday uno

Here it is: video documentation of the big celebration, complete with gift opening, birthday song singing, candle blowing, cake eating, hair cutting, and rare archival footage of a neighborhood cat eating out of a garbage can. Feliz cumpleanos, kid. Which, without the appropriate diacritical marks, means something like "Happy fire extinguisher."

Pictures, too.

one is the (un)loneliest number

Today is Finn's first birthday. One!

someone needs a new suffix

Lately I've found myself calling the boy by a variety of spontaneous nicknames ending in "-saurus". As in "Who's a talkative little chatasaurus?" Other recent embarrassing transgressions from the -saur suffix family include grabasaurus, snackasaurus, napasaurus, and distractasaurus rex.

We clearly need to shake up the nicknaming protocol around here.

UPDATE: This is exactly what I'm talking about, people. Dinosaurs are everywhere: sleepers, shirts, onesies, you name it. As a boy-child fashion motif, dinos rank right up there with puppies, dump trucks, and Li'l Champ footballs. Geez. Overloadasaurus.

finncrane

The Schwilligs have been absent from this space for too long, what with all the childrearing and indolence and such. The Schwilligs beg your forgiveness.

Surely, dear reader, somewhere in the hazy back room of your smoky, beer-soaked past, you've stored a memory of playing that frustrating existential joke disguised as a coin-operated bar game known as SkillCrane. I can see the light dawning in your eyes. It's all coming back to you now: the glass box bathed in chilled white light, the enticing tumble of stuffed animals and trinkets yearning to be free, the steel claw that glitters with such menacing promise. You eye your prize---there, that green froggy thing in the corner with the big head----commit your quarters, push the directional buttons, and drop the claw, which has the mighty grasping power of (quick, name something really small and powerless, like a cricket, or an anemic kitten, or a Ford Festiva, or something like that. . . okay, let's go with the Festiva) a Ford Festiva and falls harmlessly, fruitlessly, impotently, empty-handedly away. Convinced that you ALMOST HAD IT THAT TIME, you pump another 30 or 40 bucks into the machine (lather, rinse, repeat) before realizing that winning a prize is a mathematical and metaphysical impossibility, that you will never liberate those cuddly stuffed animals from their glassed-in bondage, that your hope for the future of humanity was permanently removed during a simple, painless surgical procedure that took place while you were mesmerized by mirrors, lights, and claws, and the resultant cavity was neatly filled with sawdust.

As a token of our affection, and mostly just because we think it's hilarious, we offer this remake of the classic SkillCrane game, a loving homage starring Finn. FinnCrane was created using Scratch, too much spare time, and a rogue's gallery of Finn's animals and toys. Note to the PETA people: No teddybears were harmed in the making of this game.

No coins necessary. Just click to start. Abandon hope, all ye who drop your claws here. The animals will always remain just beyond your grasp.

official ID

neopolitans

So we went to Florida last week for a vacation rendezvous with our BFF Anne. Beautiful Naples, sunny and 75---which describes both the weather and the general disposition and median age of city residents.

Despite slathering on the sunscreen, we got good and neopolitanned.

Cabana boy.

Sand.

King-sized crib.

Canoe power.

Living the high(rise) life.


Cabana boy, part deux.

Winged beastie at Corkscrew Swamp Sanctuary.

Schwilligs at sunset.

evolution of glee

Images courtesy of Grandpa Foto.

fogelberg is dead; long live loggins

At last, clarity and closure is in sight for everyone who was dragged into the Soft Rock Mortality Debate of Ought-Eight. For those of you who missed the angsty spectacle, I was absolutely sure and prepared to swear on a stack of Bread albums that Kenny Loggins died in 2007. It turns out I arrived at this burning erroneous conviction by not paying strict attention during one of those Grammy award show in memoriam montages.

The soft-rock icon I had in mind is Dan Fogelberg, who died of prostate cancer in December 2007. He must have been the one who was Grammorialized. Distracted by the crunch of potato chips during the Grammys, I half-heard "Fogelberg," which was immediately misfiled in my memory banks as "Loggins"---an amateurish but understandable conflation, I think---by the brain's equivalent of a nebbish, disgruntled, cardigan-wearing file clerk overflowing with bitter resentment at being forced to plod daily through endless, fluorescent-lit mental pathways choked with cognitive clutter in futile hope of finding an archivally accurate home for useless pieces of information that will never ever need to be retrieved. Armed with this dangerous misinformation, I proceeded to spread it around with solemn certainty, which must have put poor Kenny into the danger zone. He was probably struggling to keep his head above ground the whole time. Whatever personal struggles with mortality he may have faced, his career seems to be resuscitating nicely with the release of a new album in 2007. What a relief.

My sincere apologies to everyone involved.

area boy stars in reality show

Exciting news, everyone. Our grand plan to pimp out the boy as a child actor in order to bankroll his *college education* has taken its first tentative steps. We just got the call from his sleazy agent. His future is assured, as is our position as his crazy, controlling, gold-digging parents.

He'll be starring in an edgy new reality series called "Crib of Love." Check out the trailer, and watch for it soon on the Schwillig Network.

flight of the bumbleboy

schwilligco announces new handheld

SAINT PAUL, MINNESOTA - Minnesota-based personal electronics firm SchwilligCo unveiled the Huckleberry, a new addition to their industry-leading handheld device line, at a press conference on Saturday. With its fully-integrated monotasking functionality, pacification plug-ins, No-Tooth connectivity, and coo/cry notifications, the Huckleberry is touted as a significant advance in personal inefficiency technology.

Photo courtesy of SchwilligCo

According to SchwilligCo CEO and spokesmodel Kelly Billig, "We're extremely pleased and excited about this product launch. We think the Huckleberry's simplicity and ease of interactivity will revolutionize the way people work. We're all overloaded, overscheduled, oversaturated, and multi-tasking as fast as we can. The Huckleberry shows us another way. Plus, it's super cute!"

The Huckleberry is immediately available in limited numbers at licensed SchwilligCo dealers.

SchwilligCo is expected to phase out the current Tula, Dusty, and Flea device lines in the next year.

where the wild things are

(chocolate) chip off the old block

The home/work baton was passed last week, not without a few tears. But let's not dwell on that sad fact. Suffice it to say Papa is now home full time, while Mama sallies forth into the workplace to bring home the bacon.

In an attempt to set the bar impossibly high and blow our homemaking wad right away, we decided on Day 2 of the New Order to make chocolate chip cookies. A double batch, no less, which was a gutsy call considering the baker's shady reputation as a kitchen improviser. And in fact, the recipe was thrown into chaos by the addition of an untried Secret Ingredient at the eleventh hour. Luckily, it all turned out fine in the end (i.e. the cookies were edible).

Kitchen-confidential note to all you M. Stewart wannabes out there: No kitchen professional worth his salt would be caught dead these days without his very own front-loading strap-on sous chef. Handy! And cute!

in like a lamb

area weimaraner conquers matterhorn; jubilant crowds roar in approval

ventral reservation

When tummy time goes bad.

smoke alarm: an unconventional love story

Where there's smoke, there's fire. And passion. And obsession. And squealing.

speaking of tongues

Well. It seems that Mister Smartycheeks has suddenly discovered his tongue. Oooh, and what a slippery organ of joy it is. This is the sort of out-of-control behavior that happens when your mother sticks out her tongue at you in a SHAMELESS DISPLAY OF SASSINESS. Mimicry, people. Copycatting. And that starts with C and that rhymes with T and that stands for tongue.

For more damning evidence, we present Exhibit B. The first half of the film is all fun and games. But, like in any good Godzilla flick, the monster makes a spectacular appearance before the end.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Finn wants everyone to be his Valentine (especially Grandpa Norm and Grandma Mary in Arizona). Here's his special v-day outfit, replete with spit-up stains:


Also yesterday his BabyLegs legwarmers arrived in the mail. Finn the flashdancer is grooving in his skull and crossbones pair:

gleeful in bearsuit, or dogsuit, or whatever eared creature it's supposed to be

that was then. this is now.

Growth

The boy is growing at a terrific rate. Every morning we wake to plumper, more kissable cheeks.

and the belly...it's getting impressive.