Feyo was born on 26th April 2001. While many of you might think he's a cute little angel (even the parents), it is not so.

Duvelke means Little Demon: indeed, Feyo is the cutest Antichrist ever!

Thursday, December 13, 2001


Yesterday a collegue of dad's work came by to shoot some pictures of me. The man learns how to make pictures on an Academy (while it's just plain simple: point towards the object you want to "picturise" and press a button, so I don't know why you need many years of training for something that obvious). I wouldn't be Feyo, if he didn't learn anything from this experience:

  1. I'm a living object, contrary to what he's used to work with, so I gave him a very hard time trying to point the cam at me. It must be hard if you're used to take pictures of trees, then have an energy ball like myself as a study object. If I wasn't crawling around, I was hopping or I didn't look to the cam at all.
  2. When I finally did look at the cam, it got my full attention: I crawled towards it, hands in a grabposition, the only thing that really mattered in my life, was that cam. I wanted it. It must be very hard to take pictures from someone not only looking at the bird, but also wanting to take it.
First I was on the table, meaning mom and dad did the best they could to prevent me from falling off. While, of course, trying to do the best they can to make it Feyo-only pictures. So they had to be there and not to be there at the same time. Sounds very Quantum phisical to me...

This became very dangerous (I already spilled Pictureman's glass of water), so they put me on the floor on a blanket. This blanket was soooow neat that I didn't find the time to look at the cam: I just looked down to the blanket, fascinated by the beautiful design of it, while my hands were very busy exploring it.

Pictureman then let me explore the cam for a while, thinking his cam is that expensive that it surely is strong enough to resist a little Antichrist. Mom and dad weren't that sure of it; they already know my destructive nature. But nothing got broken. It all ended with me handed to Pictureman, but since he's not very used to children yet, it looked like that time when I was handed to a Nerdfriend of dad (thought he held a portable).

Luckily enough Pictureman took plenty of pictures, so some of them might be a success. I'll probably post some material within a couple of weeks. Meanwhile, a big thankyouverymuch from mom and dad to Pictureman!

Wednesday, December 12, 2001

Moving still improving!

Eat this: I'm crawling around now! I discovered this is a much more fun than previous techniques of transportation. For now, my movements are still a bit bombastic (I lift my arms really high while crawling), but it works. My greatest fear was you cannot take anything with you while crawling (because you need your hands to lean on, of course). However, last weekend I kept my huggy-bear in my mouth while crawling towards M&D. Pretty much the technique a dog uses to transfer his puppies.

Mom and dad are very happy, yet concerned with this evolution: I need to be watched much more carefully now. I can be at the sharp table corners, the cosy fireplace, the plant surrounded with funny sand that feels good in my fisties, in no time.

Something else I learn these days: how to lift your butt and stand up. There's still a lot to learn here, but I have a certain technique here: trial and error, without worrying what my attempt will lead to: there's always M&D to catch me when I fall. Most of the time at least. Yesterday, I pulled myself up on a little (lightweight) basket, giving me the opportunity to dive to the front. Dad grabbed me milliseconds before I hit the ground.

This method is not reliable. The day before, I was just sitting on the floor (yep, I have also what you could call a "play surface", but I prefer being on the hard floor), took a toy, then suddenly fell over on the back of my head; no mommies or daddies were close enough to prevent me from doing this. They only saw me rolling and heard a *bonk* sound, followed by an intense crying.

Where the hell are they when you need them most? (t.i. almost every minute)

Sunday, December 09, 2001

I must have been a very good boy, because I got plenty of stuff from the Good Old Man (St Nicholas). At one occasion, I received a huge colorful mushroom, almost about my size. Instead of being eatable, it features a lot of different parts, each of which you can open, close, screw, turn, switch and/or manipulate. At another occasion (for some strange reason all gifts are not delivered at the same time, I suppose the Saint still has a long way to go regarding his logistics) I received a car. Yep just like the one Grownups use to transport me, but a lot tinier, and, strangely enough, from the not-so-mobile type.

Now this is odd. The primer function of a car seems to be transporting people from point A (f.e. our house) to point B (f.e. Pseudomom's place) in a comfortable and speedy way. My car is not that comfortable (but pretty amusing, colorful and with a lot of tiny things going on), and (more importantly) does not move! It is to say, it does move a little, it actually rocks, but it does not bring me to point B. I move a lot faster just by being on my tummy. So if I could choose, I'd prefer a moving car, because a car is just designed to move.

Things might get better next year: this is the first time I met the Saint, so he sure as hell surprised me, but next year I will be preparered: I'll make a very specific list of desires and wantings.

I also have a guestbook, so if you want to leave a message, just go ahead and click my head.

If you want to see it, click my eyes and use your eyes.

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