Good morning! I’ll bet you’ve been wondering when Mommy & Daddy were going to make this post! Well the wait is over! I’m here, and now it’s time to celebrate…me! Did you know that my nickname Fletcher means arrow-maker? That’s kinda funny, because now my name is Archer, the arrow shooter! Ha!


While I bask in the glow of the delivery room heat lamps, let me fill you in on the details: Archer David Farnsworth, born November 3rd at 4:52 am, 7lbs 5oz, 20.5 inches long, and pink! Mommy was at the hospital for less than an hour before I decided to show up, and everything went smoothly. I had my right hand hooked over my left shoulder when I came out…I was reaching into my quiver for an arrow, just in case!


Mommy! They poked me in the foot when I wasn’t looking and the heat lamps turned off! Mommy!!!


I was transferred from the spacious delivery room into a luxurious recovery closet. Seriously, that room was maybe 80 square feet and was shaped like a bean; no square walls at all! I’m still balling up my fists just thinking about it!


Just kidding, I’m all chill. Now it’s time for my close-up! Rowan says those are sparkles on my nose!


Don’t be fooled, I can see what you’re doing! I may or may not have been smirking just now…


Time to catch some z’s. I hear there are some excited siblings of mine coming to pay tribute. I want to be well-rested when my people arrive!


I’m still napping, but it’s ok…it’s two-thirds of what I do all day. Nice to meet ya Brinley!


Hold on tight Rowan, don’t let me go! I’m feeling a little nervous about your grip…or i just pooped.


It was poop. That’s ok, this hospital wizard robe made the diaper change a snap. Hi there Big Sis Eleanor, how do you like your new title?


‘Sup bro?! There’s no denying that you are the most excited sibling, right Drew?


We’re making plans…mischievous plans! Cuz that’s what boys do!


Time for a parts check: Make sure I have the correct number of fingers and toes…don’t let Ellie do the counting!


Let’s head down to the family lounge, I hear there’s free ice cream in there. That’s right Ellie, everybody be quiet! We want all that ice cream for ourselves.


I’ve been poked, prodded, tested, and endured a slight traditional modification to my man parts. I’ve had my fill of this place! Time to put on my super-cool-homemade-go-home outfit and get the heck outta here!


Once home, I ditched that scratchy petroleum-based “disposable” thing and slipped into something far more comfy…ahhh!


I’m snug, warm, and vibrating. I think I’m gonna like this place.


I suppose I should take a peek before I make a final decision though. What’s that up there?


While I was chillin’ on the inside, Mommy was busy on the outside! Look at all my cool one-of-a-kind homemade outfits!


Since the price of cotton shot up recently, some of the fabrics for my duds were scored at thrift stores. All those solid colored shirts were custom dyed (more on that later!)


Quality boy-themed fabrics are hard to find…I think bikes, rockets, cars and trucks will do…


High-contrast patterns are essential to neurological stimulation. Can you see my gears turning?


Leading experts also say that Mozart makes babies smarter…so how come all I hear is Veggietales, Dora & Daniel Tiger?!


I think I’ve seen enough to settle on this place. Time to work on another one of my talents…


This picture makes you want to yawn. Just admit it.


Naptime’s over, and I’m in a new outfit. Are we going somewhere?


Ah, road trip! I got my vanilla scented binky, somebody pull down the shade!


We went. We bought. We ate. Happy Thanksgiving. Even Grandpa & Grandma Johnson, Kelsey, and Jenna were there. Yeah, I got passed around, but I was comfy the whole time! Don’t you wish you could be so stylish in sweatshirts and elastic waistbands?


This…is my pooping face.


And this is my poopy face! C’mon over Daddy, I got a mustard-colored surprise for you!


Another cheap way to expand a wardrobe: buy white baby items and custom dye them! Meet my sweatshop employees:

(disclaimer: we recommend dyeing with permanent fiber-reactive dyes, not the cheap RIT stuff you can find in stores.)


They didn’t seem to mind the low wages or the peculiar uniforms…


They just can’t get enough of serving me.


Ok, there may have been one little protest…but that was because she didn’t get a shirt for herself. Tough beans, Bob!


I’m wearing my new blue hat and my salmon-colored shirt. Salmon is the boy version of pink. It”s a manly color…


“…Everybody finds somebody someplace, There’s no telling where love may appear, Something in my heart keeps saying, My someplace is here…”


I see all kinds of colors and shapes, I hear all kinds of sounds, and I feel all warm and cozy…I like bathtime!


Leave me in here until I’m extra pruny! I’m gonna raise hell when I get out!


You didn’t want to see a pic of the hell-raising part…just me snug as a bug.


It’s time for my P90X Insanity Tae Bo MMA workout with Jane Fonda. Hiiiiyah!


Phew! I think I may have burned off .006 ounces. Time for…zzzzzzzzzz…


I’m pretty good at this, by the way…


You’ve heard of man caves…this is how they start…a comfy chair, a blanket and a couple markers… 


All that working out AKA eat/sleep/poop-ing is paying off: I’m such a beefcake now; I’ve gained almost a pound a week since I was born! I’m coming close to outgrowing some of my super-cool outfits, like this one:


Daaaad, you’re trying too hard…just be cool, like me. And what’s up with those pants?!