Four months in and Jonas still can't wrap his furry head around the concept of our baby. Some days I think the dog sees him as a temporary houseguest, and other days he seems genuinely concerned with Liam's well-being. But most days he just thinks the kid's got great, chewable swag and is the perfect distraction so that he can steal stuff off the counter while no one is looking. This is a bank robbing duo just waiting to happen.

When Liam was tiny, we merely chalked Jonas' lack of comprehension up to the newness of the situation. Then as the weeks rolled by, the jealousy started to show. Suddenly and inexplicably (to him) I was no longer playing frisbee with him every night. Out of nowhere, my wife was not interested in petting him while she sat on the couch. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, thinking all of this must be hard for him to be at peace with, as he was our focal point for over two years. But he's not digging this new baby thing, that's for damn sure.

While Jonas is physically inserting his horse body in between the baby and us EVERY FIVE SECONDS, Liam is thrilled by it. As soon as he was able to focus on things you could see the absolute amazement in his eyes when Jonas would thunder by. If Jonas drops the tennis ball in his lap as if to say, "here, Thing Who Appears To Not Be Leaving, make yourself useful," Liam's eyes get big as saucers as he stares mouth-agape at his big brother. And then he'll giggle, turn his head and smile his toothless grin with glee. Lord only knows what the kid thinks this dog really is.

It's really unfair how the relationship between the two has shaken out. Jonas is either apathetic or overly curious. Liam is deeply interested and smitten with the swooshy tail that provides a nice breeze. One is borderline resentful and the other is happily entertained. It really isn't the Best Friends Forever thing that I had played out in my head, but I'm holding out hope that Jonas will have his own la noche oscura del alma and suddenly see Liam as the buddy he's been waiting for.

So we wait. Every night Jonas thinks this is the night he'll get to play on Liam's playmat, or chew his pacifier or consume his dirty diaper (gross). And every night the baby holds his breath as his face gets licked and his socks almost get stolen off his feet. And every night I wait to see if we're finally at a place were Jonas will lay down and sleep next to the crib in peace...and that I won't have to worry that I'll soon be reaching down his throat to extract the squeaky plush toy that he furtively wolfed down when we weren't looking.

In relation to our wonderful government's proposed idea of a Wall Street bailout:

"It's not based on any particular data point," a Treasury spokeswoman told Forbes.com Tuesday. "We just wanted to choose a really large number." [source]

At least try to make us believe you know what you're doing.

Dad, on the other hand, did not want to give him unlimited access to the computer in case he might discover the black hole that is YouTube. So we compromised. He insisted that it be done in Flash (yuck) and I insisted it be automated. So now anytime I update my Flickr account with a photo of him, it'll show up at liamfaust.com.

Despite my lectures on accessibility, extolling the virtues of standards-compliant sites, he wanted to go big. I let him because he really can make my life hell if he wants to. He uses vomiting as a weapon, and I'm here to tell you it is quite effective.

So it's big, hefty (bandwidth-intensive), but he's happy. And there's a lighter version at liamfaust.com/simple in case full screen ain't your bag.

Maybe now the kid will be distracted for awhile and get off my case about setting up an Etsy shop for him. Supposedly he and Jonas are going in on some business venture.

I don't ask...

3 months from Brian Faust on Vimeo.