My many names.

Greetings, minions,

It appears that my parents are not content to label me with just the two names - as they insist on calling me many different names every other day. It all gets rather confusing.

For example, on most days I am Harrison, and sometimes Harry, and then I am invariably called 'little guy' whenever they get me out of the crib.

Uncle Paul calls me 'floppy', especially when I take a nap in his lap.


Whenever I do something spectacular in my pants, mother calls me 'squidgy', 'squelchy' or 'stinky' - I wish she'd make her mind up.

Whenever I kick my blankets off (every time they put them on me), father calls me 'Harry Houdini'.



Mother also calls me 'squirmy' whenever I wriggle and push my feet against her. Smell them, woman!



On another note, I nearly forgot to show you the flowers (on the left) that Neil and Agnese sent to me all the way from Australia (whatever that is)! The pathetic bunch on the right was from father - he obviously must have done something wrong again.



And last but not least, here is my favorite hat and sucky thing. They were given to me in hospital, and remind me of that jolly time when they were sticking needles in my legs and pressing cold stethoscopes against my... wait a minute...


Until next time,

HJB out.

Me, me, me!

It appears that Granny Annie has been bugging father over his inability to update my blog every day - so I have given him permission to add some new photos to this site.
Father will be reprimanded.

Here is father and me napping after after a particularly long day of pooping and eating (and that was just him).
People say we look similar - I don't see it...


My parents are getting so lazy now that I have to hold my own bottle - I'm only 20 days old for crying out loud (which I do, frequently).
Do you like my snazzy new gloves? They are being used to stop me scratching at my baby acne - how embarrassing.


Usually while I am feeding, I get a moment to think up another diabolical scheme. In this picture I just thought of one.
Excellent...


Here's a closer shot of my acne - I tried to tell father that cooking oil was no substitute for baby lotion, but he wouldn't listen.


Whilst lounging on the couch, watching CSI - Changing Table, I like to fashion a crude nest for myself from discarded blankets and boppy cushions.


I call this my Hugh Hefner pose - I've just emptied the contents of a bottle and now I'm kicking back and waiting for the bottom rumbles to begin.
Hello, ladies...


I'm practising yoga to keep in shape - it also helps with digestion.
I call this the 'broken windmill'.


One of my grandmas has come to visit - I call this one Granny Gill. She seems to be unable to let go of me - she must have something sticky on her hands (possible leakage - my bad).


One of my aunties is visiting too - this is Auntie Rajwant. She is very nice - she massages my feet every day with baby lotion. A guy could get used to this.


Finally, here I am in my jedi robes. I'm hoping a kindly couple of moisture farmers will adopt me and help me fulfill my destiny. Failing that, I can always use mind tricks on my weak minded parents.
'Gooo aand get meee some miiilllkkk...'



Hope that's enough to keep you happy - more soon!

HJB out.

Pee King - Duck!

Greetings, minions,

Well, I thought you might like to know that phase one of my global domination plans is in effect.

Phase one, code-named 'Operation Breakdown', is designed to destroy the will of my parents, thus making them easier to manipulate when it comes to doing complicated things, or getting stuff down that I'm too small to reach.

Father was relatively easy. Firstly I made sure he was tired. I did this through the utilization of random and completely irrational whimpering followed by a grimace as I forced yet another mustard-colored, cottage cheese surprise into my underwear.

The final straw came when he changed me after a particularly abundant bowel movement. I waited until he had fully clothed me before filling my diaper once more. As he proceeded to change me for a second time, I waited until the perfect moment, then peed all over him, ruining a third diaper and crushing his spirits once and for all.

He is now mine.

I do the same to mother, but she is proving to be a tougher nut to crack. here, let me demonstrate...

Step One - the innocent look. Draw the victim closer with cuteness. That's right - come a little closer...



Step Two - pick the moment. A shifty glance to the side shows that she is distracted - I pick this moment to cause a squelching cacophony in my diaper.



Step Three - the nonchalant wait. I make it appear as if nothing more is going to happen than a routine diaper change. Nope. Nothing to see here. Move along.



Step Four - I strike! With precise aim I hit my target, increasing the laundry needs of the house by 100%. Mother stares in disbelief.



Step Five - maniacal laughter. A good 'Mwahahaha' helps to seal the deal I find.



I get the feeling that mother will have to be 'marked' a few more times before she bends to my will - but I have plenty of time, and my water pistol is always loaded.

I must admit, I sometimes feel a little bad about peeing on mother (not dad though).
After all, we have shared some quality napping times together.



I met Uncle Paul too the other day.


He's OK - but he won't hold me long enough for me to give him a special diaper present. I must think of something else...

HJB out.

One week old!

Hello fans,

Some of you out there in the real world have been demanding to see some more pictures - and it would be wrong to deny you of your daily dose of lil' ol' me, so here is a quick update on my first week on the outside of bellyomom.

I believe I mentioned before that I like to sleep on mother - she is most certainly the comfiest thing in this new house.


Sometimes, after a good feeding, I just zonk out right there and then, and I dream of milk.


In fact, I can sleep pretty much anywhere.


Even my bed is comfy - but only if I'm wearing the right attire.
You may notice the Bugs Bunny band-aid on my little leg - I had my first Hep B shot today (whatever that is).
Dad said I was a good boy and hardly cried at all. Of course not - that would not be very becoming of a future despot.


When I'm feeding I like to flex my feet in opposite directions - mum can't stop looking at them - get a grip, woman!


Yes - that's right, a firm grip like me.
I'll let go when I've drunk enough, and not before.



See you next time!

HJB out.

Did I mention that I love my mum?

We're home!



HJB out

A Considerate Son

Check out what I got my mum for her birthday!



Admittedly, I had a little bit of help from father - he is much handier with scotch tape and wrapping paper than I am, but let's face it - without me, this gift would be rubbish.

She had a nice day - I gave her a couple of extra presents (in my diaper) and the nurses brought her a cake!

We're coming home tomorrow! Yay!

HJB out.

Hi there.

It's mother's birthday today (the 12th) - quite a coincidence since it was my birthday only the other day!


I love my mum.

HJB out.

Want more?

My future minions have been crying out for more information - so here it is.

I was born on August 9th at 21:21 by cesarian section due to a couple of minor complications. All this means now is that I can only leave the house through the upstairs window rather than the front door.

Here is my first introduction to this world. Trust me, I have the names and numbers of these fellows.


All is going swimmingly here; I am being treated extemely well by the nice doctors and nurses, and mother and father have been getting to know me through excessive facial posturing and cheek stroking. I must say, mother is even more lovely than I had dared hope for!


We are really looking forward to going home, although I understand we have to stay in this building for a few more days while mother recuperates from her surgery. I can't help feeling a little bit guilty about that - sorry mom.

It's her birthday on Tuesday - looks like we'll be celebrating in bed!

I think father is the only one who realizes what he has unleashed upon the world - he must be dealt with, and swiftly...



Oh, and about the name change.

Mother was determined to find an Indian name for me, and after rejecting father's suggestions (namely Harrison Tikka Baker, Harrison Poppadum Baker and Harrison Big Chief Shaking Goat Baker), she found a most suitable name - Jaan.

Jaan is a word used in the Indian language; in Punjabi it means 'life' and in Hindu it means 'lifeforce'. Father was pleased that the force finally got in there somewhere...

Until next time,

HJB out.

Hello!

Surprised? So were mother and father!

I couldn't wait any longer - I just had to get out and see the world I will one day rule with a soft, pink fist.

We are all very tired at the moment - watch this blog over the next week for all the gory details - in the meantime, here are the stats that everyone seems to be so peculiarly interested in...

Name: Harrison Jaan Baker (yes - there was a name change - details to follow).
Size: Pretty decent for a three week early baby I would say.
Weight: 6 lbs, 12 ozs.
Hair: Dark.
Eyes: Grey/Blue.
Skin: Pinky white - how'd that happen?
Thighs: Like tugboats.
Brain: The size of a planet.
Prospects: Considering I am the spawn of a couple of weirdos - remarkably good.

Speak to you soon!

HJB out.

WATCH THIS SPACE!

Something's coming....