Henry's been up to some new things, so I thought I should report on them before I forget.
He's started playing like a "real" kid -- stacking rings onto his ring stacker and putting objects (including himself) into and out of containers -- instead of just knocking things over and chewing on toys.
He now gives high fives, or if he's not too sure of you, high "ones."
He is much more outgoing with strangers, though (waving and smiling and acting coy). I can no longer duck in and out of a store anonymously.
He has discovered how interesting it is to chuck stuff over the railing on our upper level onto the stairs below. I know it's time to get off the computer when I hear "BOOM. BOOM. SPLAT."
He can also climb up those stairs with no problem, though we haven't worked on going down yet. (Maybe we should teach him to pick up the stuff laying all over the stairs, too.)
And the walking! It's now his go-to form of transportation, meaning he tries that before crawling. He's getting pretty good at it, walking all the way across the room. His arms are still extended out, though, Frankenstein's-monster style. The other day at my parents' house he walked that way across the kitchen while babbling/yelling and we all cracked up.
We've had a few "mama"s and "dada"s, but after getting him to repeat them last weekend he won't perform on command anymore. Oh, how I long to hear a "mama" meant just for me...
He's taken to lying around on his back lately, with his feet up in the air. He looks more and more like a little kid and not a baby every day.
He's into books in a big way, too. Although I made sure we had a huge supply of board books for him from birth, I really wasn't as good at sitting down and reading to him as you'd expect a book lover to be. But lately looking at books is almost all he wants to do and he shows me he wants me to read to him by tossing the book at my head. (Reading as a contact sport...who would have guessed?) I catch him looking at books by himself, as well; that is, when he actually lets me sneak away for a few minutes.
He's still a mama's boy and I have the bad back to prove it. The other day I plugged his birthday, birth time, and birth location into an
online horoscope generator and had to laugh when I read, "Being close to your mother is especially important, and you need a lot of love and affection from her."
He's way into food now (goodbye, pleasant breastmilk poop). We took him to a Mexican restaurant the other day and asked for a side of black beans for him. I wish I'd thought to bring our camera -- he sat peacefully stuffing beans into his mouth until his face, arms and hands were covered in black gook.
It's actually his new-found affinity for food that inspired him to do his first sign:
more. I'm so proud. Since then I've begun using all the other signs I know: bird, shoes, cat, dog, eat, water, play, read, book, mommy, daddy, fish, ball, grandma, and grandpa. He just looks at me like I'm crazy.
Something else I've been meaning to mention, though it's not that new, is the bleating noise he makes. He sounds like a little goat, and looks so earnest as he's doing it, like he's really trying to convey something.
Also not new, but worth mentioning, is the joy he gets from rolling around and acting silly in our bed. He climbs onto it and I chase him, drag him back by the legs, tickle him, and he laughs uproariously. You've never heard a baby laugh so hard.
And tantrums... In early June, when Henry and I visited my friend
Allie's house, I took something away from Henry and he gave it up willingly and with no protest. Allie looked at me in amazement and said, "He doesn't throw a fit at all?" I said, "No, he doesn't seem to mind." I was silently proud of
my child who never fusses when redirected. And then two days later the tantrums began. (Beware of smugness, that's all I have to say.)
My baby. Almost one year old.
