tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204917682024-03-13T17:07:25.235-07:00The Swaddle ReportLife From the Eyes of a Boy Named HudsonHudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.comBlogger97125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-74141678203056732092009-04-25T07:58:00.000-07:002009-05-12T19:32:40.312-07:00The Littlest Soprano<object width="400" height="300"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=4601526&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" /><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=4601526&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="300"></embed></object><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/4601526">The Littlest Soprano</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user1740451">Swaddle Report</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-15617289823728129632009-04-25T07:45:00.000-07:002009-04-25T04:58:20.472-07:00Super Hudson Part I: Spotted Dog Rescue<object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9Lhya4umDmw&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9Lhya4umDmw&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="350" width="425"></embed></object><div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-19413023006510559682008-01-28T17:06:00.000-08:002008-01-28T17:08:30.657-08:00Hudson Sings His Favorite Hits<object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_kG85L1e6TM"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_kG85L1e6TM" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"></embed></object> Here's a video of me singing some of my favorite songs: Take Me Out to the Ballgame; Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes; and Twinkle Twinkle. Feel free to sing along if you know them. If not, then replay it until you learn them.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-70465974972139242452008-01-13T21:55:00.001-08:002008-01-13T22:17:50.549-08:00Tiger on the Loose<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/R4r5orTSigI/AAAAAAAAAGY/vNohlGVCnUw/s1600-h/tiger.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/R4r5orTSigI/AAAAAAAAAGY/vNohlGVCnUw/s320/tiger.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155207200692668930" border="0" /></a>I broke free from the cage that is winter this weekend to attend Tiger Fest, where my favorite Detroit Tigers come to play every year.<br /><br />I got to meet some Tigers, and swing a baseball bat at a floating ball, and listen to Momma sing the National Anthem.<br /><br />I also had an emotional reunion (pictured, below) with my friend Paws, who I hadn't seen since the season ended at the end of this summer.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/R4r9y7TSihI/AAAAAAAAAGg/mbg43-Obwa0/s1600-h/paws.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/R4r9y7TSihI/AAAAAAAAAGg/mbg43-Obwa0/s320/paws.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155211774832839186" border="0" /></a><br />All in all -- aside from mom and dad spilling a tray of nachos with jalapenos and salsa and cheese on me -- the day turned out grrrreat!<div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-21190413717207296382008-01-10T19:18:00.000-08:002008-01-10T19:21:53.826-08:00Dance Video: Hudson Does the 'Kitty Kat'Hudson shows you the step to the latest dance craze, the "Kitty Kat."<br /><br /><object width="425" height="355"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EnmIW6qbmAM&rel=1"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EnmIW6qbmAM&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-50028919704463211952008-01-01T19:21:00.001-08:002008-01-01T19:40:16.273-08:00Reflecting on 2007<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/R3sDhbTSifI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/K73xK6_Yk2o/s1600-h/reflection.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/R3sDhbTSifI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/K73xK6_Yk2o/s320/reflection.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150714471627524594" border="0" /></a>I'm two years old now, and it's amazing how differently the world looks than when I was one.<br /><br />A tree is no longer just a tree now. It's an evergreen or a birch. A bird is not just a bird. It's a hawk, a seagull or an Arctic Warbler. And music is no longer just music. It's bands and artists like Raffi, Dan Zanes and Led Zeppelin.<br /><br />I laugh just thinking about the things I used to laugh about at the immature age of one. And, although I am fond of some of these 2007 age-one memories, I'm eager to make more informed decisions as a two year old in '08, including participating in this year's presidential elections.<br /><br />I have my bags packed for Iowa, where I will be attending a Caucusing for Kids event. It's just like a regular adult caucus, except it's all kids, and whoever throws the biggest tantrum... their candidate wins. Wish me luck in this endeavor and everything else I take on in 2008. And I wish you the same. Happy New Year.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-67195178784584169282007-11-05T19:40:00.000-08:002007-11-05T19:47:05.884-08:00Cat on the Prowl<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/Ry_jSyAPw-I/AAAAAAAAAGI/LajCColXDhE/s1600-h/lion.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/Ry_jSyAPw-I/AAAAAAAAAGI/LajCColXDhE/s320/lion.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129568412398240738" border="0" /></a>Hey. It's me again. And I'm wearing another disguise.<br /><br />I'm dressed as a Lion so that Popo the cat will be fooled into thinking I'm a member of his cat family and just as soon as he goes to the shelf to reach for his cat family photo album, to verify my identification, I'll grab his tail!<div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-59514161124090783382007-11-05T19:29:00.000-08:002007-11-05T19:38:36.544-08:00Where's Hudson? Here He Is!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/Ry_ghSAPw9I/AAAAAAAAAGA/CJGoHqRa0gg/s1600-h/huddysback.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/Ry_ghSAPw9I/AAAAAAAAAGA/CJGoHqRa0gg/s320/huddysback.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129565362971460562" border="0" /></a>Hey. It's me. Back from the farm.<br /><br />I'm wearing what they call a disguise. I'm thinking about becoming a detective, and this would likely be the outfit I wear so I can be undercover... not like under my blanky undercover, but undercover like a secret sleuth.<br /><br />This way, I can sneak up on Popo the cat and grab his tail because he won't expect it, because he'll think I'm someone else, or better yet, if my disguise is really working, he won't see me at all.<br /><br />I'll be back soon with another post, and maybe with another secret sleuth outfit.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-66656619744415387992007-06-19T09:57:00.000-07:002007-06-19T10:07:07.919-07:00City Boy Runs Away to the Farm<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RngLWADuN8I/AAAAAAAAAFw/BILZDJRRr_s/s1600-h/DSC04176.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RngLWADuN8I/AAAAAAAAAFw/BILZDJRRr_s/s320/DSC04176.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077821052460873666" border="0" /></a>Dear Mom and Dad. It's been fun living with you, but I'm leaving for the farm. My dream is to raise crops and piggies, and you always told me to follow my dreams, so, I'm following those piggies right to the farm, where I belong...<br /><br />OK. I'm not really running away to the farm, but it sure is fun to visit. This farm didn't have any piggies or horses or cows or tigers or lions, but it did have storytellers and fiddle players and ice cream, so I thought it was a decent tradeoff.<br /><br />Maybe they used to have horses, because there was plenty of hay there, and they say that hay is for horses, but I didn't see any horses, but I sure did see hay, so I was kind of confused, but I figured instead of spending my time confused, it'd be better to just go with the flow and play in some hay.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RngNLADuN9I/AAAAAAAAAF4/B2Akqake5uk/s1600-h/DSC04184.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RngNLADuN9I/AAAAAAAAAF4/B2Akqake5uk/s320/DSC04184.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077823062505568210" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I would definitely recommend this farm, except, well, the storytelling was a little bit backward. This man talked about these three little pigs going after a wolf, and huffing and puffing and blowing the wolf's house down. I didn't want to stop him and embarrass him, but from all the books I've read, pigs don't huff and puff... they squeal.<br /><br />Oh well. No farm is perfect.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-66249504934051014092007-06-12T20:56:00.000-07:002007-06-12T22:00:19.167-07:00I Saw a No Hitter... Where Were You?<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/Rm93VQDuN7I/AAAAAAAAAFo/WGEydy10u_0/s1600-h/jvnohithudson.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075406512041375666" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/Rm93VQDuN7I/AAAAAAAAAFo/WGEydy10u_0/s320/jvnohithudson.jpg" border="0" /></a> Tomorrow my friends at daycare will ask me, "What'd you do last night Hudson?" And they'll expect my answer to be something like, "Same ol. Ate. Went for a walk. Had some milk. Went to sleep." ... But not this time. This time the answer will be different. This time the answer will be, "Oh. I don't know. Not much. Just went to the Detroit Tigers game, rode the merry-go-round, had a chocolate chip ice cream cookie sandwich... and, oh yeah, did I forget to mention that I witnessed a no hitter!"<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/Rm9wLQDuN4I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/Vs_1wrpPe28/s1600-h/jvnohithudson.jpg"></a><br /><div><br />I didn't know what a no hitter was before last night, but I now know that it's exciting! If you've never seen one, you should try... but I'm told it might not be that easy. You may never see a no hitter. But I did, and I want to share it with you. So, if you've never seen a no hitter, now you can say you've seen one, on my blog.</div><br /><div>I also learned last night that you can take pictures with a phone. Daddy B took this picture with his phone. He was a little overexcited, so he was only able to get the back of my head... I'm just glad I had a chance to comb my hair before the game, otherwise this could have been an embarrassing photo. You can find more bad phone pics of the no hitter at <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/huddypics/">Huddy Pics</a>. </div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-17005383958461964312007-06-11T07:32:00.001-07:002007-06-11T10:16:32.376-07:00Any Polka Requests?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/Rm1dNwDuN1I/AAAAAAAAAE4/2p7zJwdoSj4/s1600-h/accordian.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/Rm1dNwDuN1I/AAAAAAAAAE4/2p7zJwdoSj4/s320/accordian.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074814845936613202" border="0" /></a>I just picked up my first accordion this weekend at the Detroit Festival of the Arts. I didn't get to keep it, but the Polish in me caught on to the instrument real quick.<br /><br />I had thousands of people polka-ing in the streets to my accordion beats... OK. Maybe that's a stretch, but someday, when I get my own, I'll get good enough to sell out stadiums, or at least fill the living room of one of my grandmas houses.<br /><br />Did you know that I also found my own park this weekend? Yeah. Somebody named it after me but didn't even tell me or ask me. Doesn't matter. I would have said yes anyway... I'm both flattered and honored. They shouldn't have. Really. They shouldn't have. It's just too much. I don't deserve it... OK. Maybe I do deserve it. In fact, if you ask me, I deserve a bigger park, but I'm not one to complain...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/Rm1zywDuN3I/AAAAAAAAAFI/mrB1ymZD0b4/s1600-h/DSC04083.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/Rm1zywDuN3I/AAAAAAAAAFI/mrB1ymZD0b4/s320/DSC04083.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074839670847584114" border="0" /></a><br />Thanks to whoever made this happen. You know who you are, and I'm sure you read my blog, so, thanks!<br /><br />Well, that's all the words I have left for now, but you can check out some of my latest adventure pics at<span style="text-decoration: underline;"> </span><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/huddypics/">HuddyPics</a>.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-7770517439387457722007-06-04T20:40:00.001-07:002007-06-04T21:35:56.620-07:00Hudson and the Big Green Boots<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RmTgdQDuN0I/AAAAAAAAAEw/jXxJ491It24/s1600-h/DSC04025.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RmTgdQDuN0I/AAAAAAAAAEw/jXxJ491It24/s320/DSC04025.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072425873457428290" border="0" /></a>It's best to read this post before bedtime, so, if you're reading it now, you should stop, and print it out, and give it to your mother or father or guardian and have them read it to you before bed, because it's really a bedtime story and not an at-work or during recess or snack-time story.<br /><br />It's about a boy named Hudson (you know who he is) and a pair of big green boots (that you haven't met yet). Here it goes:<br /><br />Once upon a time, on a rainy, but warm day, a boy named Hudson put on a pair of big green boots. He had never worn a pair of big green boots before, but the fact that the boots were BIG and GREEN made it an easy decision.<br /><br />In those first few steps, Hudson knew he had big shoes to fill. These boots were SUPERsized and his feet were only mediums. The BIG size of the boots and the MEDIUMness of his feets caused this ABOVE AVERAGE size boy to come tumbling down.<br /><br />Off came one boot, and then another, and he was left on the ground, in his socks, with a scrape and a clump of dirt on his knee and no boo boo cream or handy wipes in site. But that wouldn't stop young Hudson. He was determined, on this rainy day, to complete his mission.<br /><br />So he put the left boot on first, and then the right one, and with the assistance of one of his parents, he pulled himself up with all his might and started walking again ... one step ... two step ... three step ... four ... until he realized he couldn't count any higher than that. So he switched to ABC steps. A-step... B-step ... C-step ... D-step ... until he ran out of letters. And finally, there it was, the thing he had been searching for, the obstacle that only he and these BIG GREEN boots could conquer -- a giant puddle.<br /><br />Hudson lifted his right leg higher than ever and brought it down with so much force that the puddle water splashed into his hair. But he didn't care. If he had a comb he would have slicked it back. This was too much fun to let a little water in the hair get in the way. So he took his left leg and lifted it almost as high and brought it down almost as hard (Hudson is right legged, so it's more difficult for him to splash as hard with his left.) and the puddle water splashed in his face. Hudson stuck out his tongue and licked a drop off his chin. Not only was he having fun; he was also quenching his thirst.<br /><br />The puddle splashing continued for several seconds, splash, after splash, after splash, after splash ... and then he got bored, threw the boots off, and went inside the house to look for some crackers to eat. THE END<div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-68752015917445554652007-05-29T20:28:00.001-07:002007-05-30T06:00:27.295-07:00Everyday Should Be a Sundae<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RlzyHuPkXqI/AAAAAAAAAEg/zu4wDOsC_lY/s1600-h/DSC04004.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070193494998671010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RlzyHuPkXqI/AAAAAAAAAEg/zu4wDOsC_lY/s320/DSC04004.jpg" border="0" /></a>Have you ever tried a hot fudge ice cream sundae with a cherry on top? I have... in San Francisco. Well, I'm back home now (That trip was, like, so last week), but I can't stop thinkin about that sundae.<br /><br />I wonder if you can only get sundaes in California? If so, that's criminal. If not, that means mom and pop have been hiding this treat from me all along, which is also criminal.<br /><br />I believe that a growing boy like myself needs to have one sundae everyday until he's grown, and then he should have two or three everyday until he's an adult, and then, as an adult, he can eat, like, four or five a day, but they'll have to be low fat because that's what adults eat.<br /><br />Maybe I'll start a petition of some kind to send to California's governor, to tell him that he needs to share his sundaes with the rest of the world. I'll start working on that, but in the meantime, <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/huddypics/">click here</a> to check out some more pictures of me digging in.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-17828236248016832332007-05-20T08:08:00.000-07:002007-05-20T08:49:09.340-07:00Hudson LIVE From San Francisco Part IV<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RlBpruPkXjI/AAAAAAAAADo/SLx0dgxarGc/s1600-h/DSC03929.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RlBpruPkXjI/AAAAAAAAADo/SLx0dgxarGc/s320/DSC03929.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066665780660428338" border="0" /></a>It's not often that you get a chance to see a giant head in the grass, but that's what I saw at the Golden Gate Park yesterday -- a giant head in the grass! And it was purple!<br /><br />Me and a lot of other kids took turns playing with the nose and inside the ears and touching its eyes. There were a lot of signs that told us we should be careful not to damage the head, but we're kids... I mean, you put a giant head in a park and you expect me not to pound on it? Give me a break.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Signs, Signs, Everywhere...</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RlBqZePkXmI/AAAAAAAAAEA/e4WwkrNymAU/s1600-h/DSC03925.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RlBqZePkXmI/AAAAAAAAAEA/e4WwkrNymAU/s320/DSC03925.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066666566639443554" border="0" /></a>While in the park, I stopped by the art museum where I gave tours to children and small animals. I couldn't read this particular sign that I pointed out to the group, but I don't think they noticed. I'm pretty good at pretending like I can read.<br /><br />I take pride in making my tours good for the mind and body, involving a little education and a lot of physical fitness. We didn't see many paintings, but I led my group up and down the museum stairs about 72 times.<br /><br />This is another sign we found in the park. There <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RlBrqePkXnI/AAAAAAAAAEI/dTG2owFfuE4/s1600-h/DSC03959.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RlBrqePkXnI/AAAAAAAAAEI/dTG2owFfuE4/s320/DSC03959.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066667958208847474" border="0" /></a>were actually several of these stuck to trees and most of them were directed to a guy named Tony. So, if you're reading this blog Tony, you should probably get to the pizzeria quickly or your friend is gonna get mad.<br /><br />And like the day before, our long journey ended at the ocean, this time at Ocean Beach. But we didn't make it very far along the beach because the wind didn't want us to... it was blowing sand at us really hard and it basically told us to go away and come back later. That's OK. The view was good from where we were at. And, according <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RlBptOPkXlI/AAAAAAAAAD4/cB68B0lFjGU/s1600-h/DSC03961.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RlBptOPkXlI/AAAAAAAAAD4/cB68B0lFjGU/s320/DSC03961.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066665806430232146" border="0" /></a>to this sign, it wouldn't have been very safe for me to dip my toes in this part of the ocean. Oh well. There's more journeys ahead, so I'll sign off for now, put on some clothes (I'm blogging in my diaper), and head back to the streets.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-22911709169098536952007-05-19T01:16:00.001-07:002007-05-19T01:47:56.548-07:00Hudson LIVE From San Francisco Part III<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/Rk612ePkXgI/AAAAAAAAADQ/JJ3jnrc3xxs/s1600-h/DSC03809.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/Rk612ePkXgI/AAAAAAAAADQ/JJ3jnrc3xxs/s320/DSC03809.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066186578274311682" border="0" /></a>Oooh. Look at me. I'm doing hard time for stealing a pacifier. I'm going to spend my second birthday in the slammer. My criminal name is "Babyface." Ha... Ha... Ha... Very funny mom and dad. Put the baby in a prison cell while he's sleeping and snap a photo. Like we haven't seen that one before...<br /><br />OK. So I slept through most of the trip to Alcatraz. What are you going to do? It wasn't really my fault. If they would have just let me climb up those stairs on the boat ride over I wouldn't have had that tantrum and wouldn't have wore myself out. I mean, c'mon. They weren't that dangerous. So I might have tumbled over into the ocean or something. I bet it's not even that deep.<br /><br />I did wake up in time for the tail-end of the excursion, to catch some of the wildlife -- birds and plants and... more birds. I bet I really could have shook those prison bars. And there were probably some cool things to climb inside the prison, too. Dad, you couldn't have given me a little wake-up nudge to say, "Hey. Hudson. We're on Alcatraz -- the world's most famous prison. You should probably wake up." Or, mom, couldn't you have picked me up out of my stroller and said, "OK buddy. Enough sleep. You're missing out on some prime playtime." ... Oh well. There'll be other prisons.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/Rk65lePkXhI/AAAAAAAAADY/W2HIfUzAU6c/s1600-h/DSC03860.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/Rk65lePkXhI/AAAAAAAAADY/W2HIfUzAU6c/s320/DSC03860.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066190684263046674" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">We Found the Beach<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></span></span>Who said there were no beaches in San Francisco? Well, we found them, and I conquered them... OK. Maybe not conquered. But I did dip my feet in the water at this first beach. Pretty brave for a 16-month old, right? Did you dip your feet in a shark-infested ocean when you were this little? Did you risk getting cold toe disease by dipping your feet in really cold water when you were just a baby boy or girl? Did you have to run as fast as you can to escape a bunch of pirates that landed ashore? ... I did all of those things. (You can't see the pirate ships here, but you can check them out at <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/huddypics/">HuddyPics</a>.)<br /><br />And you wouldn't believe all of the wind surfers I saw at the next beach. They were crazy. Some of them were flying kites and then they would get in the water and the kites would pull them across the water really fast. I just got a kite not too long ago. It's still in the box, but when I get home, I'm going to fly it and pretend like I'm gliding across the ocean, except I won't be in the ocean. I'll be on the grass somewhere... but isn't that what pretending is all about?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/Rk65l-PkXiI/AAAAAAAAADg/OlWXENW8OLo/s1600-h/DSC03910.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/Rk65l-PkXiI/AAAAAAAAADg/OlWXENW8OLo/s320/DSC03910.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066190692852981282" border="0" /></a>OK. That's enough for today. I'm told by my parents that we have no plans for the next day of our vacation, so I can't give you any hints on what to expect in my next post, so, just come back and find out for yourself. See ya soon.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-58056509610798083982007-05-18T06:04:00.001-07:002007-05-21T09:45:23.169-07:00Hudson LIVE From San Fran Part II<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RlHL8-PkXoI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/zhPlonCHmzE/s1600-h/verytalltrees.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RlHL8-PkXoI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/zhPlonCHmzE/s320/verytalltrees.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067055304129404546" border="0" /></a>Once upon a time there was a little boy wearing a little red hooded sweatshirt, and his name was little red Hudson hood... gotcha! This isn't story time. That was just a joke, but I was wearing a red hooded sweatshirt during my trip to see the biggest trees in the world, and an old man did walk by and say, "Look at that little boy. He's like Little Red Riding Hood." And I quietly replied, "Yeah, except that Little Red Riding Hood is a girl!" But I wasn't mad at him. There was too much beauty around to be concerned about a gender mixup.<br /><br />So check out these trees. That's little ol' me making my way down this path. I asked mom and dad if I could find my way through the woods on my own and they agreed that I was old enough and responsible enough to take on the task... Just kidding again. I hope you didn't fall for that one. I'm only 16 months old. I can't walk through the woods alone yet -- at least not until I'm about 18 or 19 months.<br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RlHMguPkXpI/AAAAAAAAAEY/pQqzA25uTkI/s1600-h/skypark.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RlHMguPkXpI/AAAAAAAAAEY/pQqzA25uTkI/s320/skypark.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067055918309727890" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Big Park in the Sky</span><br />I told you yesterday that San Francisco was a great place for parks. Well, check out this one we found in the middle of the sky. I call it Sky Park. Go for a swing and you feel like you're swinging on top of the world. Go for a slide and you feel like you're sliding on top of the world. Fall off the <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/Rk2lM-PkXfI/AAAAAAAAADA/IBHzs-UNxuM/s1600-h/skypark.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/Rk2lM-PkXfI/AAAAAAAAADA/IBHzs-UNxuM/s320/skypark.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065886798146985458" border="0" /></a>playscape and you feel like you're falling from the top of the world. I especially liked the sandy surface. It was fun to walk through and run my hands through, except it's hard to sleep at night with sand in your diaper.<br /><br />Well, it's time to shake it all out and head on to my next adventure. I'll be back with more later...<br /><br />In the meantime, you can check out more pics of the San Francisco trip at: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/huddypics/">http://www.flickr.com/photos/huddypics/</a>.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-7239880542636675302007-05-17T07:07:00.000-07:002007-05-17T08:30:26.760-07:00Hudson LIVE From San Francisco<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkxqhuPkXZI/AAAAAAAAACQ/aaeM8sAaVZ0/s1600-h/DSC03625.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkxqhuPkXZI/AAAAAAAAACQ/aaeM8sAaVZ0/s320/DSC03625.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065540808466521490" border="0" /></a>Hey everybody back there in the rest of the world, I'm in San Francisco! This is my first trip to this place, so I thought I should make a big splash by sending you daily updates of what I'm doing and pass it along to you, in case you ever leave your world to come here.<br /><br />I'll be filing all of my posts by myself this week since mom and dad said we couldn't afford to buy plane tickets for <a href="http://swaddlereport.blogspot.com/2007/05/swaddle-report-20-new-staff-new.html">Jenny the Cat or Gary the Gnome</a> or any of my other staff members, and there wasn't any room in the suitcase for them either. Don't worry guys. I can handle the load, and I'll be sure to bring you all back some souvenirs from my trip (that's what good managers do).<br /><br />Anyway, that's enough business talk, let's get back to the fun part -- vacation! Every good vacation starts with eating, and after a long long flight (p.s. mom graded my flight behavior as a B-; dad gave me a B... Give me a break. I would say B+ at least. It's a loooong flight!), me and the ol' parents decided to stop in Chinatown for a bite. My meal started with an appetizer of sliced apples and pot stickers followed by sesame street chicken. OK. It's actually just called sesame chicken. There's no "street," but that was a little joke or shout out to my favorite show, and to all the babies out there who are fans of my blog and the show, too. And getting back to the meal, let's not forget the ice cream and fortune cookie dessert. My behavior may have been in the B range, but this meal was an A+.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkxsUePkXaI/AAAAAAAAACY/y-V7XBGfLFw/s1600-h/huddyswing.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkxsUePkXaI/AAAAAAAAACY/y-V7XBGfLFw/s320/huddyswing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065542779856510370" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">San Francisco: The Swing Set City<br /></span>One measure of a great city is its swing sets, and when it comes to swing sets, San Francisco has it going on. Check out the air I was getting with this swing. I was turning heads. People were, like, "Wow. Where's that baby from? He an unbelievable swing master!"<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">While You Were Sleeping<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkxuCePkXbI/AAAAAAAAACg/rXfm_oo5248/s1600-h/huddysubmarine.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkxuCePkXbI/AAAAAAAAACg/rXfm_oo5248/s320/huddysubmarine.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065544669642120626" border="0" /></a>One thing that I learned from vacationing is that if you sleep, you might miss something ... like a real live submarine! Why mom and dad didn't wake me up for this one, I'll never know, but I guess I have this picture to look back on... except for this lady (no offense lady) is kind of in the way of the submarine. Maybe she's the captain of it. If that's the case, then she has a right to be in the way, but if she's just a lady looking at a submarine, then she should be more mindful of the fact that there are sleeping babies out there who only have pictures to rely on to see a real live underwater vessel.<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkxuDOPkXcI/AAAAAAAAACo/eKM7cCrgU4M/s1600-h/armwrestling.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkxuDOPkXcI/AAAAAAAAACo/eKM7cCrgU4M/s320/armwrestling.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065544682527022530" border="0" /></a><br />I also slept through a challenge. This arm wrestling master apparently wanted to challenge me, but I was sleeping. But I'm not afraid of him. In fact, I'll say it right here. I challenge you Mr. Arm Wrestler man to a match. One of these days on vacation while I'm awake, I'm coming back with my 25 cents and we're going to go at it. Mark my word. I'll be back.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkxuFuPkXdI/AAAAAAAAACw/plt3uJ_HLUs/s1600-h/huddysealion.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkxuFuPkXdI/AAAAAAAAACw/plt3uJ_HLUs/s320/huddysealion.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065544725476695506" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lions in the Sea?</span><br />Did you know that the lions in San Francisco live in the sea? I didn't, but I do now. And these guys don't look like your normal lions. They're slimey and they bark like dogs. But they're awful funny. I got an up-close look at em and I even got a chance to talk to a few of them... and I found that they're pretty nice guys... and girls. I let them know that when I head back for my big arm wrestling challenge later this week, I'll stop by and say hello... and I'll be sure to stop back by the blog to say hello to all of you, and provide you with regular updates of my trip. So stay tuned!<span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-744586833123657422007-05-14T11:37:00.000-07:002007-05-14T11:50:47.828-07:00I H2Owe It All to You Mom<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkisionkaBI/AAAAAAAAACI/XvBYVmgWdEk/s1600-h/495093224_f297a38590.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkisionkaBI/AAAAAAAAACI/XvBYVmgWdEk/s320/495093224_f297a38590.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064487491997034514" border="0" /></a>There are two elements a baby needs to survive in this world: Water and Mom. Water helps keep you hydrated and washes down chunks of peas or apples that are stuck in your throat. Mom helps keep you warm and safe and she'll even use her finger to clear out any chunks that the water missed to prevent you from choking.<br /><br />So, this post is to you Mr. Water and to you Mrs. Mom.<br /><br />I got to play with Mr. Water recently in the form of a fountain park, or splash pad or water miracle... whatever you call it, there was water coming out of the ground, from everywhere.<br /><br />Just when I thought I had outsmarted these little fountains, they'd pop up and get me. But I didn't mind. Being in a diaper and running through water is the sign that summer is here, and that makes me happy.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkisiInkaAI/AAAAAAAAACA/F9mu6tLHDq4/s1600-h/495093134_f9e927d920.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkisiInkaAI/AAAAAAAAACA/F9mu6tLHDq4/s320/495093134_f9e927d920.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064487483407099906" border="0" /></a>And you'll notice in this photo, of me and Mrs. Mom, that I'm a little bit scarred up. That's another thing mom is good at -- comforting me after I get up from a fall with a few gashes or bruises on my face or body.<br /><br />There's nothing better than mom for healing ... well, neosporin works good, too, but it doesn't wipe away the tears or pick me up and hug me... at least the neosporin I use doesn't do that. If you know of a better brand that takes care of those things, please share in the comments below.<br /><br />Anyway, this was my Happy Mothers Day post, so Happy Mothers Day mom. And as soon as Happy Water Day comes around, I'll send a Happy Water Day shout out to you Mr. Water.<br /><br />If you like these pics, there's more in the <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/huddypics/">HuddyPics gallery</a>.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Report filed by: <a href="http://swaddlereport.blogspot.com/2007/05/swaddle-report-20-new-staff-new.html">Jenny the Cat</a> (indoor content and photos with mom) and <a href="http://swaddlereport.blogspot.com/2007/05/swaddle-report-20-new-staff-new.html">Gary the Gnome</a> (outdoor content and photos of water).</span></span><div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-81860225319625217162007-05-09T19:59:00.000-07:002007-05-09T21:27:04.881-07:00Swaddle Report 2.0: New Staff, New Attitude, Same BabyI bet you thought I had forgotten you. Well, I didn't. I'm back. And I've hired a staff of my friends to assist me in updating The Swaddle Report, to keep you informed, educated and hip to the happenings in Hudson's life.<br /><br />First let me introduce you to my dedicated team, and then I'll give you an idea of what to expect from this all-star squad.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Editor in Chief: Hudson<br /></span>It's my life, so I have the final say in how it's covered.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkKNqInkZ7I/AAAAAAAAABY/EWiKPSxIyJo/s1600-h/DSC03591.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkKNqInkZ7I/AAAAAAAAABY/EWiKPSxIyJo/s320/DSC03591.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062764686125328306" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Outdoor Correspondent: Gary the Gnome</span><br />Gary will help write stories about anything that I do outside the house -- walk-in-the-park stories, swinging stories, zoo stories.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkKOT4nkZ8I/AAAAAAAAABg/T5fD66F9WZE/s1600-h/DSC03587.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkKOT4nkZ8I/AAAAAAAAABg/T5fD66F9WZE/s320/DSC03587.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062765403384866754" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Indoor Correspondent: Jenny the Cat</span><br />Jenny will help write stories about anything I do indoors -- spilling toys, climbing things, napping.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkKRoYnkZ9I/AAAAAAAAABo/vosSldb1InI/s1600-h/DSC03588.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkKRoYnkZ9I/AAAAAAAAABo/vosSldb1InI/s320/DSC03588.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062769054107068370" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Swaddle Cafe Chef: Bob the Big Boy </span><br />Bob's Slim Jim is an employee favorite.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkKTrYnkZ-I/AAAAAAAAABw/k8-ijIfawzE/s1600-h/DSC03589.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkKTrYnkZ-I/AAAAAAAAABw/k8-ijIfawzE/s320/DSC03589.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062771304669931490" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Human Resources: Derrick the Buddha</span><br />If you want a job at The Swaddle Report, just tell Derrick. He'll accept anyone's application. He's a real calm and easy going guy.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkKVRonkZ_I/AAAAAAAAAB4/i51yg-dfa8k/s1600-h/DSC03586.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RkKVRonkZ_I/AAAAAAAAAB4/i51yg-dfa8k/s320/DSC03586.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062773061311555570" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />What you can expect from my staff? Our goals as an organization are based on the three Qs: <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><ul><li>Quantity: At least two blog posts per week</li><li>Quality: When Bob the Big Boy is not cooking burgers, he'll be in charge of spell checking</li><li>Questions: We're not afraid to ask the tough questions, like: Where did you put daddy's cell phone? Or, why are there apple chunks in the laundry basket?</li></ul>Hey, and if you want to keep up with recent photos of me that you may have missed, click this: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/huddypics/">http://www.flickr.com/photos/huddypics/</a>.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-70370997666271781902007-03-27T09:48:00.000-07:002007-03-27T10:26:35.314-07:00From the Video ArchivesI dusted this old video off for the enjoyment of my blog viewers. It's just me watching some TV, a little Blues Clues. Love the show, but it always throws me off balance. Might be the bright colors. Anyway, check it out:<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AzXsajVn_bg"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AzXsajVn_bg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-16653866957075047082007-03-27T09:14:00.000-07:002007-03-27T09:36:51.078-07:00March Madness: Hudsodamus Predictions<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RglC53QteII/AAAAAAAAABM/OZlZm4Fow8Y/s1600-h/huddybball.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/RglC53QteII/AAAAAAAAABM/OZlZm4Fow8Y/s320/huddybball.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046638419299367042" border="0" /></a>It's time for Hudsodamus' annual March Madness Final Four picks.<br /><br />Right now there are four teams left: the Georgetown Hoyas (I think that's a dog of some type), the Ohio State Buckeyes (I think those come from a tree), the Florida Gators (Scary reptiles with big teeth that I see sleeping at my local zoo, but I'm not sure if the ones that I know are from Florida), and the UCLA Bruins (it's a bear, I think).<br /><br />Now, after doing some calculations and looking into my crystal basketball (OK. It's actually made of cushy stuff, but you get the idea.), I came up with the following prediction: After this weekend, there will only be two of those teams left.<br /><br />Let me break it down for you. There are four teams now. There will be two games this weekend, with two teams involved in each game. Only one team will win each of those games. So, if you add one plus one, that equals two teams left.<br /><br />Hope that helps you all out in filling out those final spots on your bracket. I'll be back next week to make a prediction on how many teams will be left after the championship game.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-21321041928327747132007-03-05T10:30:00.000-08:002007-03-05T10:55:00.213-08:00The Wonderful World of Colored Pasta<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/Rexh9KBCCNI/AAAAAAAAABE/SVL7pxF2IJ0/s1600-h/YMCA.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/Rexh9KBCCNI/AAAAAAAAABE/SVL7pxF2IJ0/s320/YMCA.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038509786409339090" border="0" /></a>Hey. It's my first day at day care, with other kids. They think I'm totally cool.<br /><br />There are lots of fun things to do here. It's very colorful. Even the pasta noodles have color.<br /><br />I'm eating some of them in this picture. It's funny, they are all different colors, but they still taste like pasta. Kind of brilliant really.<br /><br />I'm thinking about inventing colored baby formula... how much would your infant love being able to sip from a bottle full of blue stuff, or red stuff, or green or purple stuff.<br /><br />Ooh. I gotta go. We're all leaving for diving lessons now ... Just kidding mom. I knew that would put a scare in her.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-14152558432688031782007-03-04T18:31:00.000-08:002007-03-04T21:16:34.930-08:00Winter Break: Hudson's Adventures With Flat Stanley<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/ReuIaKBCCGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/HuiDFuTAIpg/s1600-h/flatstan1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/ReuIaKBCCGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/HuiDFuTAIpg/s320/flatstan1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038270591090690146" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Hello blog readers. It's been a while since you've heard from me. I've been out of reach, on a month-long sledding journey with my sled partner, Flat Stanley.<br /><br />The journey started at Grandma D's house, where she packed us some rations -- Cheerios, sliced bananas, organic whole milk in a bottle, and a couple of sippy cups full of H2O -- before we set off for our journey across the arctic tundra.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/ReuIa6BCCII/AAAAAAAAAAc/CJmE5WfKD3M/s1600-h/flatstan3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/ReuIa6BCCII/AAAAAAAAAAc/CJmE5WfKD3M/s320/flatstan3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038270603975592066" border="0" /></a>This was my first big sled trip, so Flat Stan navigated, while I steered tough curves like the one in this picture (left). Flat Stan said he was glad I came along because he has trouble putting his body into big turns like this... he's flat you know.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/ReueTaBCCMI/AAAAAAAAAA8/lqk12I876h4/s1600-h/DSC03285.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/ReueTaBCCMI/AAAAAAAAAA8/lqk12I876h4/s320/DSC03285.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038294664382384322" border="0" /></a>After several days of tough conditions, Flat Stan and I made it to the palace of the Ice Clown King, where Stan and all his other flat friends and family members were created. The Ice Clown King was happy to see Stan, and he gave him a hug.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/ReuIbaBCCJI/AAAAAAAAAAk/Y2JPHGJHvtU/s1600-h/flatstan4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/ReuIbaBCCJI/AAAAAAAAAAk/Y2JPHGJHvtU/s320/flatstan4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038270612565526674" border="0" /></a>The Ice Clown King invited us in to keep warm from the cold. I parked my sled at his doorstep and made myself at home.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/ReublqBCCLI/AAAAAAAAAA0/1qvoP1AeQuI/s1600-h/DSC03287.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/ReublqBCCLI/AAAAAAAAAA0/1qvoP1AeQuI/s320/DSC03287.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038291679380113586" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The Ice Clown King then fed us a hearty meal. Boy were Stan and I hungry. I swear, we ate so much so fast that after we were done, Stan's stomach was no longer flat. And I could barely get the sled to move my own plump little belly.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/ReuIbqBCCKI/AAAAAAAAAAs/rUN4MCwDhNM/s1600-h/flatstan6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/ReuIbqBCCKI/AAAAAAAAAAs/rUN4MCwDhNM/s320/flatstan6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038270616860493986" border="0" /></a>Finally, with a little help from the king himself, we shoved off from the palace and headed back home. I dropped Stan off at his house, and he waved goodbye. Our adventure was over, but we both knew there would be more adventures ahead of us.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHAHp4_H_V8/ReuIbqBCCKI/AAAAAAAAAAs/rUN4MCwDhNM/s1600-h/flatstan6.jpg"><br /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-1169750083077033982007-01-25T10:11:00.000-08:002007-01-29T09:58:21.806-08:00Jan. 29, 2007 Day 396: My Night at the Museum<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1062/2054/1600/545935/donotenter.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1062/2054/320/126463/donotenter.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />So I recently went on a dinosaur hunt -- or recruiting trip -- at a museum. Daddy B tried to hold me back because he thought it would be dangerous, but adventure is in my blood, and nothing could stand in the way of my journey.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1062/2054/1600/879929/cage.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1062/2054/320/411220/cage.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I first discovered this mastadon when scouting out the area from above. He looked sort of like an elephant, except not as cute. They kept him in this cage because of his big teeth and giant tusks, but I quickly found my way down and inside to get a closer look.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1062/2054/1600/269554/mastadon.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1062/2054/320/211496/mastadon.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>When I got up close to the mastadon, I realized he must just be misunderstood. He wasn't mean or scary at all. In fact, he was pretty quiet, and we got along pretty well. I consider him a friend now. I told him I'd put a picture of him in my blog and it made him smile. He also became the first member, and vice president, of the Hudson and His Dino Friends Club (HAHDFC).<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1062/2054/1600/28474/trex.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1062/2054/320/344482/trex.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Just when I thought I was safe, this T-rex tried to sneak up on me, but I was able to calm him down by doing my T-rex dance. It made him laugh, and he too decided to join the HAHDFC.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1062/2054/1600/440472/stega.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1062/2054/320/993369/stega.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I also got stegosaurus to join the club, and he agreed to be the secretary and take meeting notes.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1062/2054/1600/649505/skull.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1062/2054/320/771075/skull.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />This guy joined the club, too, but... I'm embarrassed to say, I forgot his name. Hopefully he'll forgive me and still come on board. And if there's any other dinos that read my blog out there, feel free to inquire about the HAHDFC. We are currently recruiting more members. Specifically, we're looking for a pterodactyl and a brontosaurus. So, if you know one, please let them know that we'd love for them to join.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1062/2054/1600/28474/trex.jpg"><br /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20491768.post-1169492022072957692007-01-22T10:51:00.000-08:002007-01-22T11:15:40.803-08:00Jan. 22, 2007 Day 389: Hudson's First FilmHello blog readers. Long time no post. I've been working on my first film, a silent short called, "The Tantrum." This was shot on location in New York. Hope you enjoy:<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bGnrEJd0O3s"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bGnrEJd0O3s" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="600" height="350"></embed></object><div class="blogger-post-footer">Subscribe to the Swaddle Report</div>Hudsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11177183371293468196noreply@blogger.com0