What Henry Doesn't Know

Henry is going through a stage. At least I hope it's a stage. He's practicing demanding things, and demanding that those things be done his way, in his time frame. I find this "cute".

"One chocolate cookie, NOW!", "Go home, NOW!", "No home NOW!", "No diaper change!!", "Juice NOW!", "NO NAP!!!"... You get the picture. He makes his demand and then looks at me - like he's evaluating the effectiveness of his command, but also in a way that shows the seriousness of the situation.

What Henry doesn't know is that I don't really care how serious someone is when they make demands. Let me be crystal clear: I don't care. It's a cold, hard fact that when I am on the receiving end of bossiness, I stop cold. While the effect is supposed to gain my attention, I turn off. You want juice when? Surely not now...

We respond, or lack response, in different ways. Sometimes I suggest he add a "please" to his demand, other times I ignore it altogether. Mostly I do what I think is important for him and remind him that in fact we don't speak like that to one another, and try to make it a "teachable moment".

But sometimes I just wanna say, "Go get your own dadgum juice and go take a nap. NOW!"

Aqua Tots Class

Took Henry to his first swim class today. He was rather fussy this morning and didn't want to get into his swimming diaper, crying and crying saying, "No boys and girls! No pool!" Well, up until getting dressed, he seemed interested in going. I agreed to dressing him in regular clothing until we got to the pool.

I was reminded of being considerably older than he is now, and attending a swim class with a wretched teacher who always made the kids cry. One day, prior to going to class I broke down crying, and was put into the backseat of the car with my pillow in tow, and taken to class by both parents. They were going to observe. Apparently they agreed that indeed she was wretched, as I never had to return after that day. I didn't want this for Henry. But I did want to give the class a chance.

We arrived, Henry with his finger in his mouth (he's a nailbiter, unfortunately), and he still was hesitant. He chose not to sit with the group as we introduced ourselves and announced our favorite ice cream flavors. All the kids sat in their parents' laps, and Henry sort of circled the group staying within a 10 foot radius of us. He agreed to "watch", during which time I must have asked him 100 times if he was ready to join the other kids who were having so much fun. "No." and sometimes, "Go home, NOW." were his responses.

The teachers had various toys - but none would tempt my son who sat on my lap chewing his nails. Then I saw a toy boat. Henry saw it too. "Henny play with boats now," said Hen. Ok, I said, knowing that there were only 5 minutes left in the class. (Did I mention that the sun was hiding and it was windy? Quite windy??) I hustled him into his swimming diaper, his trunks, and the water. He was greeted by happy instructors who had just ended the class.

Henry held a boat for a few minutes, and we left.
Back tomorrow!

I feel like Walter is older than he really is...

There are times when I look at Walter and I think, "there's no way he's only 2 1/2 months old." But then I remember being present at his birth, and it occurs to me that indeed he is only 2 1/2 months old.

First off, he's enormous. I would not call him fat, but I might call him "Bruiser". He's sturdy. Broad. Stocky. Big... Next to our friend's 4 month old, Walter looks like he could be 5 months old. Wearing 3-6 month clothing.

Second, some 10 minutes ago he was on his play mat, then Kevin brought it to my attention that he had moved. I looked thinking, ok, he moved -- but clean off the mat?! I hadn't anticipated that. I wonder, should he be doing this at such a young age?

And lastly, sometimes he simply presents himself older. I look at him and he smiles at me as if to say, "yeah, I know...", like he gets it, he understands. Like he's 50. Then he coos, flirts, and looks away all a twitter. Like he's a baby.

My Baby Cheese

My son smells like a hunk of cheese. At times I thought this of Henry too when he was an infant. Wash him, you might say. Well, I did, not that long ago, and already he reminds me of warm mozzarella - although not as appealing, really. Okay, he feels like warm mozzarella and smells a little more like limburger. This is described as "tangy, creamy, pungent", the aroma coming from a bacteria created in the rind. Yup. He smells just like that.

Researching cheeses for this blog, I discovered that there is a cheese called "Stinking Bishop". Wonderful name, don't you think? Who wouldn't want to try this? I definitely have to taste it, but will probably have to order it since it will be hard to find around here. Reading about it, they say that it is a "spectacular dairy experience". Hmm, I think, that's exactly how I might describe Walter.

6/18/10
In and Out
Henry has learned to open and close the back sliding door. He was recently given a pair of crocks and so technically, Kevin and I are no longer needed as he can put on his own shoes and leave whenever he wants. Today we were out back playing in the water table, but Henry wanted to go inside occasionally to take a bite of his granola bar. So each time he passed me, he said, “Henny be back soon, okay?”

Let Me Tell You About My Boys

6/6/10, posted by Stace

“Henny Can”
Henry has decided today that he is going to start dressing himself. It started when I went in to see him during his “nap” when he had called out to me announcing that he pooped. I stepped into his room noting that he had taken his sweats off. Then, with a flourish, he brandished his pants in one hand and his diaper in the other. (Lucky for me, he hadn’t spoken truthfully about the poop, and there was only a wet diaper.) What surprised me was that he had taken his pants off – this was new behavior.

Later, while on the phone, I whispered to him that it was time for pajamas. He promptly disappeared, reentering a few moments later with his pj top on – only in a “non traditional” manner, as the neck was pulled snug around his midsection. “Mama, look!” Henry was shouting, smiling and quite proud. Later, he produced the bottoms, sat down and pulled them on announcing, “Henny can, Henny can!” (his version of “I can do it”, but it sort of doubles as a cheer, huh?), and by golly, he did. He stood up, pants on backwards, but who cares, stating that he needed my help. I looked at him – it looked fine to me, and I told him so when then he turned around to show that in fact some help might be useful as he had pulled his pants straight up without compensating for the diaper leaving a bunch of diaper (a whole bottom, actually) sticking out the top.

“Walter”
Walter is smiling and cooing, and being in every possible way - Simply Adorable. He sleeps and coos and smiles and sleeps and sleeps and sleeps… He is not yet 2 months old and wearing 3 month clothing, he has folds on his arms and thighs, and is round all over. He loves to cuddle and snuggle and likes to sleep with Mama and Daddy in the big bed.

“So Laurie” et al.
Henry has recently started saying sorry – A LOT. We aren’t encouraging it necessary, but think that it’s hysterical when he says it, because it comes out, “so laurie”.
Tonight he walked to the dinner table with an armload of cars. He knows he isn’t allowed to have cars up on the table (even though sometimes I make exceptions). He said, “Cars on table? Yes? Okay.”
His hearing is remarkable, he always hears the trains on the other side of town, doesn’t miss an airplane (and they aren’t loud like in the cities) – and like a small child inevitably will, he has started hearing what he wants to. When I say, “if you do that one more time…”, he says, “One more time!” If I say, “Please don’t do that again”, he says, “Do that again!”