London's lashes

So far, all of the parents I've talked to share a common sentiment. We all think that our baby is the world's most beautiful, and we feel sorry for other parents and their obviously inferior babies. We are all relieved to know that the other parents think their babies are beautiful--the little beggars shouldn't get shorted on parental love just because they're weird-lookin' puffy-faced bug-eyed monsters--but we're all sure that all the other parents are wrong. Of course they think their babies are beautiful. Their addled-parent hormones won't let them think anything else--and it's a good thing, too. But they're wrong. Each of us secretly knows: my baby is the most beautiful baby ever ever ever!

Of course, in our case all of the other parents really are wrong. Sorry, guys, we love ya and yer babies, but it's time for total truth here: London is, by any objective standard, the most beautiful little boy in the entire history of the world (girl babies, you still have a crown to fight for). Case in point: in addition to a full head of golden locks and great big eyes that are outer-space-nebula blue, he has incredibly long lashes. He comes by them honestly--the next time you see Vicki, check out her lashes. They're astounding. Me, I didn't even have lashes for the first three months of my life, which caused Mom some consternation until they grew in. In fact, London seems to have cherry-picked the best features from the Wedel and Cooper phenotypes and combined them into some kind of baby Adonis.

We can live with that.

Don't fence me in -

As apartment dwellers in a big city, we often go to local parks in search of sunshine and wide open space. London loves to run and he lights up like a lightbulb when we talk him on a walk. Most of the times we put his shoes on him, to go to church or daycare or the grocery store, his first question is "Walk?" The next three pictures are some of my favorites from a recent picnic at Cesar Chavez Park and Totland.




Matt and I have been making up songs since London was born. I thought I'd share some of our musical talents with you now. Sing the following lyrics to the tune of "Oh when the saints go marching in." It is the tune we sing sometimes when London doesn't want to cooperate and we decide to celebrate his independent spirit.

Don't fence me in
Don't fence me in
Don't fence me in
Don't fence me in
Don't make me eat
When I'm not hungry
Don't fence me in
Don't tell me what to do

vs. 2
Don't make me sleep
When I'm not tired

vs. 3
Don't make me sit down
When I want to run wild

- V.

London's last trip to Oklahoma -

In September, London and I took a trip to Oklahoma while Matt was on a research trip to New York. We were spoiled rotten by grandparents, aunts and uncles, and family friends. While we were in Okc, London got to take a nap on Papa's lap and make bead jewelry with Mimi. He also learned a new game, "uggie, uggie," on his Papa's lap. The rules of the game dictate that the adult should give London jiggly hugs while he sings "uggie, uggie" until he is tired or bored. It's fun to watch him share hugs and kisses.


London got to play with his cousins Abby, age 6, and Caty, age 4. Abby and Caty are true Cooper girls - they bossed London around! When he tried to take too many crayons at one time or tried to leave the coloring table to go color elsewhere, they reigned him in.



John and Norma, aka Grandpa and Grandma, live out in the country and London got to go "outside" several times a day. He got to ride on a tractor, play in the dirt, and get chased by his uncles. John and Norma escorted us to the airport. Here's our goodbye picture. -V

London is 2

Today was London's second birthday.

Unfortunately, between now and Thanksgiving I have exams to grade, termpapers to grade, a little man to watch while Vicki is gone to a conference later this week, and, if at all possible, a dissertation chapter to finish. Oh, and I'm sick. So the whole story will have to wait. Sorry to be a whiner. Here are some pictures to tide you over.


London puts on one of Vicki's sun-blocking hat thingies (the word escapes me) upside down and calls it his "gasses".


The full saga of London and Thomas the Tank Engine will probably require a couple of posts to get through. Suffice it to say, London loves "Tah-muss".


Not the most inclusive picture from London's party on Saturday, but the most inclusive picture that actually included London. Full details to come. Stay tuned.

P.S. Sun-blocking hat thingies: visors. Duh!