Henry has always enjoyed bathing, but since he has learned to sit up, crawl, and squirm, bathing has become a much more active process, requiring much more attentive parental (and grand-parental) supervision and occasionally intervention.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Henry's First Wave
Shortly after Mom's return from England, Henry had an opportunity to showcase his newly developed talents: improved crawling and sitting, pulling himself to standing, and waving.
Standing--Falling
Great Aunt Jean's activity table, while still legless, provided the long awaited motivation for Henry to sit up. A few short weeks later the table, with legs installed, has now provided the motivation to stand. And now that he has stood, there is no looking back. Henry will pull himself to standing on any object of appropriate height. The activity table, the sofa, the coffee table, all provide perfect support and hold him upright as long as he can hold his balance. Other objects--laundry baskets, cardboard boxes--have not been such sturdy supports and have occasioned some spectacular bonkings. When Henry is fresh up from a nap he is surprisingly resilient, and is back in the saddle immediately post-bonking. When he is tired, a bonking is usually followed by spectacular wailing. Either way, it is hard on parents' nerves. The sonorous thud of an eight-month-old's head hitting the floor is panic-inducing regardless of how he reacts.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Henry the percussionist
Henry's second call-response game: banging on the dinner table. Watch him grab my hand to try to stop me from banging too.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Please sir, may I have some more?
I don't know how clearly you can see it here, but Henry has learned to use the pincer grip to grab Cheerios. (Many of them actually get into his mouth; the rest, disgustingly, end up hidden in his clothes or chair or camouflaged in the linoleum, waiting to be crunched underfoot.) He can do this for almost half an hour at a time without getting bored. We are trying to use the Cheerios like training treats to teach him the baby-sign-language gesture for "more," since that's what he always wants. So far, though, he has found a piercing scream to be just as effective. Here he is, in a calm moment between screams:
By the way, I just noticed that he's using his left hand to grab with. Babies' "handedness" switches back and forth until at least age 2, but it's still interesting. (I'm very firmly right-handed, but my mom and brother are lefties.)
By the way, I just noticed that he's using his left hand to grab with. Babies' "handedness" switches back and forth until at least age 2, but it's still interesting. (I'm very firmly right-handed, but my mom and brother are lefties.)
Bedtime? Playtime!
Henry at 8pm yesterday: no sign of fatigue.
He was climbing and rolling all over the couch. Then at 8:30 we put him down and he was out like a light. Funny kid.
He was climbing and rolling all over the couch. Then at 8:30 we put him down and he was out like a light. Funny kid.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Mini-milestone
Tonight Henry sat himself up for, as far as I know, the first time. I looked up, and there he was.
Cold, cold, cold!
Today, walking home from the babysitter, Henry and I were passed by a young man wearing shorts! But this was not typical. Today's weather was about 18 degrees; with windchill, it felt like three. Maybe not terrible by Chicago standards, but we were pretty impressed.
Still, as my boss says, there is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes. Today Henry was fully prepared. He rode in the Bob, draped with a plastic cover to keep the wind out (and create the feeling that he had his own private spaceship).
Under that, he was wrapped in the Kiddopotamus. Really not much showing except his eyes and nose.
And I guess you can't really see the professional-quality ski suit (given to him by Grandma Ann -- again, more like a spacesuit) he's wearing underneath!
Still, he and I were both pretty red-cheeked and delighted when we finally got home!
Still, as my boss says, there is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes. Today Henry was fully prepared. He rode in the Bob, draped with a plastic cover to keep the wind out (and create the feeling that he had his own private spaceship).
Under that, he was wrapped in the Kiddopotamus. Really not much showing except his eyes and nose.
And I guess you can't really see the professional-quality ski suit (given to him by Grandma Ann -- again, more like a spacesuit) he's wearing underneath!
Still, he and I were both pretty red-cheeked and delighted when we finally got home!
Nice books
My mom and dad were in town yesterday, just for the day. It's great that they live so nearby. My mom read to Henry from a book about Matisse...
...which he was very interested in holding (and probably chewing). This is clearly a "nice" book. The same friend who gave it to us also gave us a great story about the New York Sanitation Department, which is definitely an "icky" book -- a night in the life of a garbage truck. It's called "I STINK!," and Ken really enjoys reading it to Henry (with great dramatic emphasis, as all who know him can imagine). New Yorker writer Elizabeth Kolbert had a hilarious column about children's books a couple of months ago, and she's so right. Whether it's about flute-playing post-Impressionist androgynes or vehicles that eat "dirty diapers" and "smelly sneakers" for lunch (part of a whole genre, apparently), they all end up at bedtime.
...which he was very interested in holding (and probably chewing). This is clearly a "nice" book. The same friend who gave it to us also gave us a great story about the New York Sanitation Department, which is definitely an "icky" book -- a night in the life of a garbage truck. It's called "I STINK!," and Ken really enjoys reading it to Henry (with great dramatic emphasis, as all who know him can imagine). New Yorker writer Elizabeth Kolbert had a hilarious column about children's books a couple of months ago, and she's so right. Whether it's about flute-playing post-Impressionist androgynes or vehicles that eat "dirty diapers" and "smelly sneakers" for lunch (part of a whole genre, apparently), they all end up at bedtime.
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Henry's new toy
Ken's Aunt Jean gave Henry a musical toy -- kind of a multimedia extravaganza actually. To my amazement, he instantly seemed to master all of its dozens of features: levers to pull, buttons to push, boxes to open, etc. And it even motivated him to stay sitting up for over five minutes!
Of course, no toy is as much fun as mugging for the camera...
Of course, no toy is as much fun as mugging for the camera...
Friday, February 02, 2007
Eight month update
Henry will be eight months old tomorrow.
He seems more solid every day, but we don't know how much: he doesn't have a doctor's appointment to be weighed and measured for another month. He doesn't sit up by himself (no interest) or stand up (very interested but lacks balance). He does crawl, impressively fast sometimes -- can make it all the way across the bathroom floor long before I've finished filling the tub for his bath. Still enjoys his bath but not so much splashing now, more into playing with his toys (especially likes his yellow rubber duckie and another duck toy he got from his grandma, which makes quack-quack-quack noises when you squeeze it). I think he's basically outgrown the doorframe-jumper: would rather be exploring the floor, looking for the dust bunnies.
He shows little sign of recognizing what language is for: sometimes I think he understands what I'm saying, but other times he doesn't even respond to his own name or look at Ken when I say "Where's Daddy." When he babbles it's still mostly without consonants. (Perhaps it's early for all this -- we don't really look at books or developmental charts or anything.)
What he excels at, so far: eating (this week's news: red lentils), sleeping (we regressed to 4am for a while there, but last night he slept 8 to 6), cuddling, smiling, laughing. Today I was bouncing him on my knees and even flipping him over in a somersault: he was just overjoyed, giggling like crazy. Really a happy kid.
He seems more solid every day, but we don't know how much: he doesn't have a doctor's appointment to be weighed and measured for another month. He doesn't sit up by himself (no interest) or stand up (very interested but lacks balance). He does crawl, impressively fast sometimes -- can make it all the way across the bathroom floor long before I've finished filling the tub for his bath. Still enjoys his bath but not so much splashing now, more into playing with his toys (especially likes his yellow rubber duckie and another duck toy he got from his grandma, which makes quack-quack-quack noises when you squeeze it). I think he's basically outgrown the doorframe-jumper: would rather be exploring the floor, looking for the dust bunnies.
He shows little sign of recognizing what language is for: sometimes I think he understands what I'm saying, but other times he doesn't even respond to his own name or look at Ken when I say "Where's Daddy." When he babbles it's still mostly without consonants. (Perhaps it's early for all this -- we don't really look at books or developmental charts or anything.)
What he excels at, so far: eating (this week's news: red lentils), sleeping (we regressed to 4am for a while there, but last night he slept 8 to 6), cuddling, smiling, laughing. Today I was bouncing him on my knees and even flipping him over in a somersault: he was just overjoyed, giggling like crazy. Really a happy kid.
Multitasking
So I'm grading Machiavelli papers, Henry is nursing, but... what makes him think it would be a good idea to grab and hold my nose?
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