When Babies Got Pretty

I used to think babies were ugly. That was until I had my first on this very day, some number of years ago.

Not only was Blane Jr. born on this very day. A new type of love was born, a love I didn’t know existed. It was like entering a whole new world or dimension.

Happy birthday, Podnah!

Here’s a song (“Welcome to the House of Fun” by The Madness) that made us all think of Blane when we heard it. He likes maniac clowns and this sounds like a maniacal clown song if I ever heard one.. (The song follows a little story at the beginning.)

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16 thoughts on “When Babies Got Pretty

  1. But Kitty, babies ARE ugly!

    Don’t get me wrong, I love my little roommates, but when they were newborns and infants they were downright hideous. They (and little Blane Jr.) are beautiful because they’re new little human beings, and because they are ours. They’re beautiful on the inside, BUT

    Still physically revolting on the outside.

    And there’s nothing wrong with that. In fact, it’s cool. Ugly babies almost always grow up to be swans (Lemmy, of MOTORHEAD, must have been one gorgeous baby).

    Babies are simply human beings in larval form. They have two primary functions – to eat and to pass on what they eat. They’re wrinkled and squirmy and blind — like maggots. And unless one is a bird, or studies bugs for a living, maggots don’t look too appealing.

    So, congratulations on having such an ugly little boy — he’s certain to be one dashing fellow now!

  2. Rochelle, Blane will think you’re totally cool for saying that, boys being boys, they love things like maggots and larvae.
    BUT…
    My baby was gorgeous. LOL.

  3. Happy belated Lil Blane, podnah, babyface…. Only 47 more days until we are the same age again. Enjoy that lowered insurance. HAHA, it’s the only thing good that comes from getting old now days.

    Aunt Kitty, this brought a story to mind. Well actually, Blane and I can go on for days with just one weekend of adventures we used to have. This story is one that we don’t usually bring up. Every time you guys would visit it would be ritual for Gammy to take the kids to Mr. Gattis. It always turned into a competition between me and that boy. Everything always did, that’s just how we were. Anyhow, we had a pizza slice eating contest. I think between the two of us we finished off somewhere around 50 slices of pizza. Talk about belly full.
    Here’s another little joke that I tell people that is so true. And when you hear it you will know exactly who I’m talking about.

    Why do old women carry such large handbags?

    So they can sneak in 4 boxes of candy, a sixpack of cokes, a popcorn machine, her smallest grandchild, a tube of ben gay, a spare change of clothes, and last nights left overs into the picture show.

  4. Awe thanks, Pooks.

    AJ, you’ll stop thinking that when you have yours. I promise you. I want you to tell German to give me the first words out of your mouth when that baby is born. (I have no doubt it will be something quotable). I will post them on this blog. I swear.

    For all of you who have written in wishing the Blane a happy one, I thank you. He went out of town, so I don’t know if he’s seen this post yet.

  5. Happy Birthday Little Blane!!!! (not so little now)
    I remember when we used to take Klaus and Blane to Mr Gattis, they also had pizza eating competition. I can’t remember how many, but I do remember being staggered by the amount. Klaus was the ugliest baby I’ve ever seen, but then he was stuck for hours, then dragged out with forceps. His face was all squashed up and bleeding from cuts made by the forceps and his head was cone shaped. But as soon as our eyes met, I saw beauty and a new kind of love. (brilliant expression that).

  6. Yes I can attest that my nephew Blane Jr was the prettiest baby any of us in our family had ever seen. He looked exactly like the “Gerber” baby. I had sent his birthday wishes through Gammy on Friday but Happy Birthday again Blaney Boy! (That was actually your dad’s nickname when he was little)
    Love ya,
    Aunt Jill

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