It's Official!

Hello again, everyone. Welcome to week six of Theo's life (outside the womb at least). Many new and exciting things to report, including why I'm such a blog slacker (although my slacking has been well-intentioned).

Hey, guess what came in the mail on Friday? Theo's birth certificate! Yay (or however you spell that particular onomatopoeia--in this case I'm thinking of the one that expresses joy or delight. And speaking of onomatopoeia [which is a cool word all to itself] [ooh, brackets within brackets--I'm really putting on a clinic tonight], why is it so stupidly hard to spell? Most onomatopoeias themselves are, like, three, maybe four letters, max. "Moo", for example. Unless you wanted to have the extended mix of sound--the remix, perhaps--in which case a few more o's would be attached on the end--mooooo. See how that works?).

Here's the object of said joy or delight (taken against the photogenic backdrop of my brand-new Greek New Testament--very exciting for me, not so much for you):

But you want to know what really frosts me? The fact that I had to pay $27 to actually get a physical certificate, but it's not even laminated. Okay, seriously, how am I supposed to keep this thing in any kind of condition at all without it getting hopelessly ruined? I carry my birth certificate on me, in my wallet; yes it's laminated and yet it's still close to death. "No problem," think I, "I'll just head to Kinko's and get 'er done." Aha, not to be:

**Photo removed for privacy reasons: the gyst of this is that it warns in strong language that if the document is altered or plasticized, it becomes void.**

And just in case you accidentally tore the actual certificate out and didn't see that warning, here's what it says on the back of the actual birth certificate:


Man, they're really serious about this. And what exactly does it mean that one's birth certificate becomes "void" anyway? That warning is far too strong. "I'm sorry sir, but all records of your birth have been wiped out due to you laminating your birth certificate." It's like that movie Flightplan with Jodie Foster. Okay, I haven't seen it, but I've seen previews. Anyway, you know the part where the stern-faced-yet-attractive flight attendant turns to her and says, "We don't have any record of your daughter having been on board the plane" (dum, dum, dum--another onomatopoeia, this time describing suspenseful music)? That's what I'm picturing happens when you laminate your birth certificate. It's obvious that I am far too simple to understand why laminating it would be such a big deal. Let's leave it at that.

Anyway, lots more to come this week, including pictures galore. We did our first actual "outing" today (sorry family, going out to family dinners don't quite count as an "outing" per se according to the Official Rules Of Baby Outings), put him in his first actual "outfit" (again, sleepers don't count as an "outfit" according to the Official Rules Of Baby Outfits--apparently the determining criteria is socks), and, well, you'll just have to check back and find out.