Seven Months
The wild man turned seven months old yesterday. He's as busy as a bee and squirmy as a worm and strong as a bull and happy as a clam, and whatever other critter metaphors might be applicable to a big jolly baby.
Henry seems extra grown up this month, doing big-kid things like holding his own bottle, drinking from a sippy cup, and figuring out more-complicated toys. His face and posture have changed just so, and we're starting to see occasional glimpses of what toddler Henry will look like (to wit: exceedingly handsome).
We constantly marvel at how happy the man is. Karl says his favorite part of the day is when he lays Henry on our bed while he is changing out of his work clothes, and Henry just laughs hysterically at everything and nothing. Apparently it's really funny when Karl hangs up his shirt. He has big toothy smiles for everyone and makes friends wherever we go. Today we had dinner at the neighborhood diner, and within ten minutes, Henry had the ladies at the next table clapping and waving for him, and a woman sitting behind us playing peek-a-boo around a pole. Perhaps I was wrong to think he'd be an introvert. The nanny says the only time Henry is cranky is when he hasn't slept enough. So maybe he did get one attribute from me.
He's active all the time and loves to rough-and-tumble with his dad. Though physically capable of sitting up, he doesn't seem to see any good reason to do so. He either flings his body back to the floor or gets distracted by a toy and slowly tips over. Still no crawling, but he does a pretty mean army-crawl/belly-scoot and can get clear across the rec room in a minute. His favorite thing in the whole world is Izzy and his major frustration in life is that the feeling is not mutual. We think he will learn to walk early because he will need a more effective mode of chasing the poor dog.
This month brought one of the most gratifying parts of parenting so far. He's constantly moving here and there and is very busy with all of his toys, but every few minutes, he squirms over to me and subtly (usually by sinking his teeth into my leg) asks to be picked up for a cuddle. I scoop him up and he flops against my chest and rests his head on my shoulder. It only lasts a few seconds, but there is something wonderful about how intentional it is. We did a lot more cuddling in the early months, but Henry didn't really have a say in the matter. Now he can move wherever and get whatever he wants, and sometimes, he wants Mom. That's pretty great.
Henry seems extra grown up this month, doing big-kid things like holding his own bottle, drinking from a sippy cup, and figuring out more-complicated toys. His face and posture have changed just so, and we're starting to see occasional glimpses of what toddler Henry will look like (to wit: exceedingly handsome).
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| My shirt says "Mom," but my face says "I'm a tiny Karl." |
We constantly marvel at how happy the man is. Karl says his favorite part of the day is when he lays Henry on our bed while he is changing out of his work clothes, and Henry just laughs hysterically at everything and nothing. Apparently it's really funny when Karl hangs up his shirt. He has big toothy smiles for everyone and makes friends wherever we go. Today we had dinner at the neighborhood diner, and within ten minutes, Henry had the ladies at the next table clapping and waving for him, and a woman sitting behind us playing peek-a-boo around a pole. Perhaps I was wrong to think he'd be an introvert. The nanny says the only time Henry is cranky is when he hasn't slept enough. So maybe he did get one attribute from me.
He's active all the time and loves to rough-and-tumble with his dad. Though physically capable of sitting up, he doesn't seem to see any good reason to do so. He either flings his body back to the floor or gets distracted by a toy and slowly tips over. Still no crawling, but he does a pretty mean army-crawl/belly-scoot and can get clear across the rec room in a minute. His favorite thing in the whole world is Izzy and his major frustration in life is that the feeling is not mutual. We think he will learn to walk early because he will need a more effective mode of chasing the poor dog.
This month brought one of the most gratifying parts of parenting so far. He's constantly moving here and there and is very busy with all of his toys, but every few minutes, he squirms over to me and subtly (usually by sinking his teeth into my leg) asks to be picked up for a cuddle. I scoop him up and he flops against my chest and rests his head on my shoulder. It only lasts a few seconds, but there is something wonderful about how intentional it is. We did a lot more cuddling in the early months, but Henry didn't really have a say in the matter. Now he can move wherever and get whatever he wants, and sometimes, he wants Mom. That's pretty great.
Such a sweet boy!
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