The nine-month Mark

Mark Hanley, at nine months

The measurements: 21 lbs, 6 oz and 28.5 inches long. That makes me... pleasantly plump? Some people who think they're oh-so-funny might say "chunky", but I think "healthy" is better. OK, sure I'm growing out of a few 12-month outfits and my feet are the size of Manute Bol's, but so what?

Best friends: Books! Shiny books, short books, books with animals, tall books and all kinds of books. I can sit and listen to mom and dad read these books for a long, long, long time. Like half an hour! Just the other day I was perusing a very interesting novella about "colors". I don't mean to spoil it if you haven't read it, but let me say this: the ending is very unexpected and yet follows logically from the one-color theme that the author established earlier in the work. I enjoyed it so much I ate the corner.

Enemies: Diaper changing. And being strapped into my high chair or stroller. Mind you, I have been getting my diaper changed for months now, and the high chair is no stranger, either. But just last week I decided that anything that holds me down--even for a minute or two--is an enemy. How dare they pin me to the floor and forbid me from kicking my legs! How dare they force me into a seat and constrain me with buckles!! Don't they know a dude's gotta move?

Just found out about: Going from sitting to laying down to sitting again and back to laying down. Taking a bath in the Big Boy Bathtub (no stupid infant tub for me!). Showing everyone how I'm SOOOOO big. Learning to say "mum mum mum"...which sounds sort-of like a word I hear a lot, and everyone (especially Mommy) gets excited when I say it. I'm not quite sure what it means yet, but I like the way it sounds. Honestly, Daddy says it's amazing how many new skills I seem to add every week. He just sits and watches me spot a toy across the room, then roll, scoot and shuffle my way over there. I grab it and sit back up. He's says something like, "This kid's amazing!" or "Just a few months ago, he couldn't hardly do anything. Look at him now!" He's very nice, but Daddy is pretty easily amused. Sometimes I sneeze peas on him while he's feeding me. He tries to look mad, but I know he's laughing. Gets him every time.

I'm not so sure about: This second tooth. The first one was kind of interesting, but how many more do I really need? Isn't this a bit redundant? Dad says if I get more teeth I can eat pizza. Is that really going to better than peas and a bottle? I have my doubts.

Favorite activities: Swimming class and music class with mommy! I'm the youngest one in both classes, but I think I might be the smartest. First of all, I don't cry. Second, I don't go for boring instruments like a dumb flute. Tambourine is where it's at! And in swimming, they want us to float toward the "safety" wall, which they mark with a rubber duckie. Seriously? I have a duckie at home in my own tub, and I've been looking at walls my whole life. I want to meet that other baby in the class! His face is so interesting. Next time I see it, I think I'll grab his nose. Again.

I have a crush on: The Outside. This is a good time to evaluate my life so far, since I've spent equal time Inside Mom's Tummy and Outside. At first, I wasn't too sure about this Outside business. Inside had a lot going for it: It was quiet. It was warm. I always had privacy. I got to be naked all the time. The umbilical cord was pretty cool - very stretchy. I could kick mom in the ribs whenever I want, which to a fetus is high-level humor. On the other hand, I didn't see much future on the Inside. I could never picture where I would set up a TV and having guests over was pretty much impossible. The Outside has a lot of attractions: Much easier to watch baseball games and ceiling fans. Don't have to eat what Mommy's eating. Room to stretch out. Books only seem to be available on the Outside. And Daddy's out here, which is pretty good. So, overall, I recommend everyone give the Outside a try. It's surprisingly fun, even though dogs lick you in the face.

Major accomplishments: Army crawled across most of the house. Learned to open drawers. Gave Stephen Strasburg a few tips on throwing a backdoor slider. Gave my dad a fantastic Father's Day present: me!

Happy Father's Day, Dad!

Mom says that Father's Day is about appreciating all of the great things Daddy does for me and showing him how much I love him. So, here goes.

My dad is great because he feeds me my bottles, changes my diapers (even the stinky ones!), and rocks me to sleep almost every night.

My dad reads me lots of stories, and sometime he makes up stories of his own. My favorite is the one about the piggies. Other kids say that the piggies are supposed to go to market, come home, and eat roast beef. Not my Daddy's piggies. They go to MIT, become the power forward at the University of Illinois, write their own novel, or join the circus (well, except that last one who goes wee-wee-wee...). I appreciate that kind of creativity.

My dad also plays lots of great games with me. Like the one where he blows on my tummy. Hilarious. Or the one where he runs far away, then gets closer and closer until we're touching. Or the one where we lay on our backs together, then he throws his socks in the air and they almost hit us. Classic!

Sometimes my dad even shows my his baseball cards, some of which he says he's collecting just for me. He tells me facts about the players, and he shows me their pictures. He tells me how much fun we're going to have when I get bigger and he can take me to my first baseball game, when he can show me how to throw and catch a baseball.

My daddy already does so much for me, and I know he's going to keep loving me, teaching me things, and having fun with me as I get older. And Mommy says that with any luck, he will help me grow up to be a good man--just like my Daddy.

Mark of Fridays: Mommy and me!

What's the best part about summer? More time with Mommy!

This week, Mommy and Mark went to swimming class and music class. They had lots of fun.

A lot of the other kids cry in the water or when the cymbals are crashing. What a bunch of babies.

Mark of Fridays: Pool days, no-school days

"It's fun to be home with Mommy. She lets me go in the pool with my friends. And she lets me put grass in the pool. She is lots of fun!"

Mark of Fridays: Whadisay?

It's time to write your own caption again. Mark got to make his first trip to The Lake last weekend and he had a great time splashing, riding boats and starting camp fires.
But was he thinking here?
We'll start you off with a few suggestions:
"Yeah, yeah, Dad. I am soooo big. I got it. Hilarious. Can we move on to the multiplication tables?"

"These fancy donuts taste funny!"

"Happy birthday, Aunt Megan!"

"Can we get cable already? I've been trying to get reception on these things for an hour!"

Bonus pic: Mark of Thursdays!

What you can't see in this picture is that there's an even tinier person behind Elmo. And even smaller muppet behind that tiny person.

And so on.

He was out! But he wasn't.

OK, everyone is talking about the blown call that took away the perfect game. And you want to know what Matt thinks?
Thanks for asking. Finally.

Every emotional part of Matt wants to overturn the call. After, it's important to get it right. That seems like a fundamental part of baseball, part of umpiring.
Matt watched the play happen live and couldn’t tell if the runner was out or safe. As soon as they showed the replay, it was clear that it was the wrong call. It hurt to see it. Matt was hurting for the pitcher, for his teammates and for the ump.
Armando Galarraga did pitch a perfect game, after all. It ended with an imperfect call. But you can't change the call.
Overturning it causes too many problems.
What if it was the same play but on the last day of the season with a guy batting .4001? Or what if a guy just got thrown out at first (incorrectly) when he had 2,999 hits? (Then he dies in a plane crash so he can never get that last hit or something.) How far do you want to go with this? Should we review the whole game to make sure there were no pitches that were called strikes that should have been balls? If they blew a call with three balls then we can take away the perfect game again.

It stinks, but it was done by the rules on the field at the time. If you want to change the rules going forward (one replay per game?) then go ahead. But changing history seems silly.
Matt might have let it go if they had immediately consulted the replay on the field. (Even though that's not allowed.) But the game ended. The next batter grounded out. Everyone went home. Game over.
The bottom line is that people want to change this to add a statistical anomaly (one that's been in the air lately). The call was not significant to the fairness of the game as a whole or the competitive balance of the teams.
Matt's buddy Mark made a good comparison about Barry Bonds. For many (most?) people, it feels wrong that he has the record, but it is what it is. It also feels wrong that Rutherford B. Hayes won the popular election, but lost the electoral vote. We haven’t gone back and fixed that one!

Other, random thoughts on the not-perfect game:
- It would have been funny if the official scorer had rule an error (maybe on Cabrera's deliberate throw - so Galarraga could still get the no hitter. That would have been creative. And wrong.
- It would also be great is if Jason Donald - the batter - finishes his career with exactly 3,000 hits. Just to stir it up.
- The way the ump and Galarraga handled this? We could all something.
- Finally, what if this this situation had been the same, but it was game 7 of the World Series in a one-run game? You have to use the replay, even it wasn’t in the rulebook, right?