Whitman boys.

The Gus is a quizzical baby, and jolly. Testify:

We went to a party last weekend. T got a chance to hold The Gus for a bit, and he and I danced. Witness:

And a couple of weeks ago, The Gus’s talented aunt J (Kai’s mother) took this picture. The Gus, I will always have your back:

I have done what I always wished my parents had done for me–I purchased The Gus his own domainname. You can now reset your bookmarks to guswhitman.com and you will get this page, in perpetuity.

Perhaps sometime in the future I will regain my own identity and reclaim mattwhitman.com, but until then you can get here either way. T promises more pictures tomorrow.

I just want The Gus to get her capacity for joy. Look, you can see all her teeth! You can’t see his, though–they are still unemergent (the copious drool signals that this is a temporary state of affairs). The Gus can now reach out and grab things, though not reliably. This multicolored hole-y ball is perfect for his limited skillz.

He likes to stand. He can do so for minutes at a time, though he lacks the hand coordination to hold onto somthing for support. He got the mighty Whitman legs, more power to him.

And he is adorable, of course. He also has grown the Whitman eyelashes, again, more power to him. He is already a ladykiller at Starbucks — the dames are lining up for face time with The Gus.

Monday he laughed for the first time, but The Gusmom’s squeal of delight so traumatized him that he immediately forgot how to do it. She promises to be more circumspect next time. In the meantime, he coos, gurgles, and flirts. We think we’ll keep him.