Merry Christmas, Baby

The 'J' in 'NJ' stood for jolly this holiday season. To wit:

My suggestion to you is that we commence with this festive gathering forthwith!

Mommy's sister gave me a drum! That makes two -- I'm that much closer to the sprawling uber-kit I've been dreaming of.

Of course, the box works pretty well, too, if you want some funky Tom Waits-style percussion.

DO. NOT. TOUCH.

Oh yes, this'll do nicely. If the drum doesn't wake Daddy up, this bad boy will.

A tee-pee, huh? How do you shut the door on this thing? I need some privacy.

I know it's not a hat, Mommy. That's why it's funny! Sheesh.

No, Mommy, YOU come HERE.

Time to unwind with some light reading.

But first, more drum work. Daddy, can you spot me while i climb up here Moon-style and trash the place? Thanks much.

Not pictured: NJ devouring Christmas chocolate. This kid loves her some chocolate; she only has eight teeth to this point, but apparently they're all sweet teeth.

If you don't see NJ enjoying a gift you sent her in these photos, don't despair. If you can measure that sort of thing by how widely they are spread throughout the house, she's enjoying every single thing she got. And if you didn't give her anything ... well, what's your problem, anyway?

Oh, not really! I've got too much stuff as it is. Seriously -- this place is a mess.

Stand And Deliver 2: Stand And Deliver Strikes Back

I was wrapping up work this afternoon when The Wife brought the kid down to my basement lair and said she had just stood up with no help at all -- no mommy's hand helping her, no pulling up by grabbing the coffee table. Just free-standing free standing.

Of course, she didn't do that once they got down here. All this happened, though:



My favorite part? Oh, that's easy -- the hands-in-the-air joy. And yes, there was a little drumming at the end. You're welcome!

Of course, once the camcorder was safely put away NJ did exactly what I was hoping she'd do while the 'recording' light was on -- she stood up without using mommy or anything else. You'll just have to trust me on that.

Stop me if you've heard this before, but: It's about time I finished up that baby-proofing.

She's Got Blisters On Her Fingers!

Moon.

Blakey.

Ringo.

Rich.

Helm.

Watts.

Cobb.

Copeland.

Bonzo.

NJ.

What? Yes! That's right. NJ has climbed atop the drumming heap and now figuratively rubs shoulders with popular music's all-time greats. The kid is a percussion natural:

Where's the rest of my kit?

The Wife bought NJ that drum for her birthday, and after ignoring it for a few weeks she's suddenly taken a big interest in it. And she knows what to do, too -- despite what you see in this particular photo, she knows how to hold the drumsticks and can tap out a rhythm for several beats that's at least as good as anything Dave Grohl ever did. When I start drumming myself (I have the rhythm and swing of your typical middle-aged white-boy doofus, but I have positively nailed the intro to 'Sunday Bloody Sunday') she'll come crawling across the basement, sit next to me and pound the drum with her hand until I turn the sticks over to her.

For starters, I need a high-hat and some tom-toms, and at least two bass drums. Chimes would be great, too.

The list of accomplished female drummers that I'm familiar with is short -- Mo Tucker was adequate with the Velvet Underground, I don't care about the White Stripes enough to care about Meg White, and I suppose Sleater-Kinney had a drummer. The drummers for the Go-Gos and the Bangles have always been known to me as "the drummers for the Go-Gos and Bangles." (I just looked them up, they're Gina Schlock and Debi Peterson.) Karen Carpenter was a pretty solid lady beat-keeper, but Carpenter's music is far too pedestrian for a hep cat like NJ.

"Set's $@*$!*#& over!" she shouted, before proceeding to violently overturn her drum in a manner that brought a tear to the eye of Keith Moon's ghost.

Perhaps one day NJ can form a band with her guitar-playing uncle. She's probably as adept at drumming now as he is at picking, so maybe they'd make a nice White Stripes-ish duo. I'll be their manager.