Here’s the thing I’m trying to get across to the servants today. If one of your baby’s has something I want, then it’s mine. MINE! I don’t know how to say it any louder. I think once I rip it out of their pudgy, wet, little, sausage hands, it belongs to me. In case that rule isn’t clear enough, I immediately stick it in my mouth and suck on it to let everyone in the park know that I am the new owner.
Don’t forget to read the last post on Vajazzling and Vatooing your Vajayjay!
Okay, so here it is: I’m never going to that g-d forsaken place you call school. I know it’s totally anti-establishment of me to say it, but I went to visit that place with my brother and after one look, I was out.
We need to have an intervention for that Facebook baby they caught with a bong. I can’t believe it. It usually takes a while for babies to be introduced to drugs. Sure, you hear the stories about moms who swear by a bit of bourbon in the bottle, though my mom calls them misinformed, but this is out of control. First the baby chain smoking on YouTube and now this baby tokin’ on Facebook. What is up with the babies of today? READ MORE
Okay, here goes. I don’t like to harsh on people because we are all special. That’s what the purple dinosaur says. Even though he’s an over sized geek, I think he’s right most of the time – everyone is special. That being said, I don’t understand why my little brother is so hairy. I know, we’re all different, but he’s really hairy. I mean like, head to toe fur ball.
I’m worried about him. He doesn’t seem to be developing the way other babies do. Frankly, he just seems to be getting fluffier.
Why can’t the adults have a more mature sense of humor and stop using us babies as mini billboards?
Baby Ryan, based on someone I know all too well, is the knew blogger on Baby Banter, which is run by the fabulous site SheKnows.com. I say it’s time for those kids to pull their weight. Chicken fingers, pizzas, and hotdogs don’t pay for themselves, you know? Once my kids hit Kindergarten it’s time to pay the piper. So, along those lines, Ryan is a working baby writer. Sure, it was hard to teach her how to type, but I put her in front of the keyboard and told her she couldn’t have dessert until she could type 60WPM. Let me tell you about the power of a black and white cookie.
She also happens to be hilarious!!! I will list her posts here and if you’re intrigued click the link. Here’s her bio, so you know what you’re in for.
Ryan “The Rockstar”
Whassup, I’m Baby Ryan. Here’s what you should know about me, first of all, I’m a girl — people get confused by the name and lack of hair on my head. As you may have guessed by my advanced vocabulary, I’m crazy smart. I have an uncanny knack for telling it like it is, but deep down I’m still a big mush. Sure, I’ve been called ornery and stubborn, but those qualities are certain to help me at Kindermusik when some stinky little crybaby tries to steal my tambourine.
Contrary to common belief, I understand everything you weird, cooing people are saying. I’m also pretty sure that I’m royalty of some sort because you all act like my servants. It seems that many of you are simply here to entertain and amuse me, while the rest of you wait on me hand and foot. I don’t have to walk anywhere, scrounge for food or even lift a spoon for that matter. I can get insanely dirty and someone just cleans me up. Even more astounding, when I get you people dirty, you simply laugh and wipe the pureed bananas out of your hair. Best of all, I don’t have to poop in that crazy hole that sucks out your soul through your bottom. I simply need to cry (I wish someone would get me a bell) and you’re at my beck and call. Being a baby rocks!
Ryan’s Profile:
Age: 9 months
Likes: Catching sight of my future BF Zuma Rossdale in a magazine
Hates: The short annoying kid they call my brother and my “Spit Happens” bib
Favorite Word: No
When I grow up: Me and Zuma will live happily ever after