At the Patch

It's been a while since my last post, so I thought I'd try to get caught up. Hence the disparity between subject matter to release date.

Here's our annual visit to Bobby Dazzler's Pumpkin patch. The first thing the girls do upon arrival is scramble to the top of the hay bail pile, like mountaineers searching for the peak of K2, and perch beside the pumpkin sign. I, like an intrepid documentarian, was there to capture it all on SD card.


















Next we loaded them into a John Deere wagon and hauled them around the patch. You'll notice that Ben isn't present. That's because he's still in utero at this point. That's how far behind I am in my posts. So, Ben is there. He's just enjoying a nice warm float in amniotic fluid as opposed to jouncing around in a wagon full of his large and dangerous siblings.


















This next one is the obligatory family photo, much to the pumpkins' dismay (though I admire their structural integrity: over-fed me and pregnant Annie can strain the load capacities of almost any squash). Please note that Annie got all the kids to don their Halloween garb. This shot is but one of many, for the innocent bystander that we waylaid to take this photo had to contend with a Sam who wasn't amenable to taking photos. Not with so many pumpkin victims awaiting him.


















No sooner had Sam laid into the pumpkins than the pumpkins had their revenge. Sam didn't realize that it's hard for a 14-month-old to balance atop a round, smooth surface for very long. After a brief cry, he picked himself up off the hay-strewn ground, ready for more.


















Once safely back in the wagon, Sam had his revenge. Every pumpkin we placed in the wagon with him was inspected and summarily ejected. He's tough on produce, especially the seasonal stuff. Note the shirt: I Love My Mummy.

Baby Ben

At long last...the much-anticipated photo spread of the newest addition to the Lindsay Clan. Please welcome Benjamin Walker Lindsay.

Little Ben was thrown (almost literally--the midwife had to catch him without gloves on--Annie got him out in one push) into this world at 11:33 on 10/22. That's four days after his due date--a fact his mother will drill into him every time he misbehaves. He weighed in at 7lbs 12oz, and 20" in length.

Here he is getting the birth goop washed off him by the not-too-gentle-but-still-kind hands of the L&D staff. He made plaintiff little mewlings throughout the sudsy ordeal. I think the sounds were meant to be cries, but they were way too endearing.



















Once his body was degooped, the nurse wrapped him up in a towel and rinsed his head off. He had settled down by this time and seemed unimpressed by her ministrations. The youth these days are desensitized and jaded so quickly.


















Here he is only a couple of days later. He had already been introduced to his sisters and brother (Sam didn't know what to make of the newcomer. And he hasn't figured it out yet). You can see that he has a healthy shock of hair, dark eyes, and a blinkless stare that could soften even the most hardened criminal. Those are my feminine and matronly hands holding him...oh, wait. Those aren't my hands. They're Annie's aunt's hands. Nevermind.


















Unlike his pale, nearly-bald, blond, and blue-eyed brother, Ben is hairy, olive-skinned, and endowed with a normal-sized head (gets that from his mother's side). He has sideburns and elfin ears, which has earned him the nickname of Wolfman. Here he is reposed in the classic angelic pose of all werewolves during the new moon.



















Here he is today, doing what he does best: napping and looking good while he does it. After about six days of extra-uterine life, he seems to be a good-natured lad with a healthy appetite and a propensity for filling his diaper. He doesn't cry without good cause, sleeps well at night, and has yet to sass back or earn the wrath of his siblings. We're thinking that we'll keep him.