Fire trucks

Long story, but our house is (briefly, we hope) on hold and we haven't left New Haven. Today we were walking from Archana's house (yep, all that goodbye party for nothing) to the park with Henry. We had just pushed the button at an intersection and were waiting for the little white walking man to appear. Suddenly we heard lots of sirens. In total there were FOUR fire engines, plus a battalion chief's car, racing to a fire in the house right across the street from where we were standing. One of the the guys proceeded to uncoil a hose and connect it to a hydrant - the whole bit.
Henry was overjoyed to see and hear the fire engines. He even smiled and waved. But he panicked when one of the fire fighters, being very nice or very bored (really, does it take sixteen guys to put out a stove fire?) offered to let him climb inside the fire truck, and another guy invited Henry to try on his helmet. He started screaming - just like he did yesterday at the doctor's office for his two-year-old checkup, at the mere sight of the nurse. (In that case he was right: she had a hepatitis vaccine shot ready.) The big loud siren had nothing on Henry's wailing. When asked about the fireman experience later, he said it was scary.
So what's up with that? Do kids have some kind of instinct about strange men inviting them to climb into their trucks? (Good thing, if so.)
Incidentally, the story about our postponed move also involves a local fire department. They've refused to certify the smoke detectors in the house we're buying. We found this out 23 hours before closing. It's complicated, but we blame the sellers: at no point in this process have they had their act together.

With Uncle Joe in New York

It was about time Henry got to the Big Apple to learn about Big City hats.


Big City literature.

And Big City music.

Bye-bye, Archana!

Archana has been watching Henry since November 13, 2006. Today is Henry's last day at her house.

Henry has learned so much with her: rhymes, songs, exercises, games, and even a few words of Hindi.

We will miss her very much.

Other daycare colleagues

Henry knows the concept of "friend." When you ask who his friends are, he mentions Aditi as well as Hannah (here with her dad, Philip, a U.S. historian working in the Benjamin Franklin papers at Yale)

and Parashar (with his mom). Parashar recently spent five weeks in India -- where, as Henry would never fail to emphasize, he got to look at elephants.

Goodbye party at Archana's

We tried to get all the kids together for a still picture. Ha! The best I could do is this little video with my camera. Gives you some idea of the dynamics.

Archana's family

Archana's older daughter Anjali (age 5) has been a big influence on Henry. Some of his sentences echo her cadences precisely.

Henry didn't really want to wear his good-bye crown. (It ended up on Ken.)

Mithilesh, Archana, and their younger daughter Aditi (exactly Henry's age).

Aditi doesn't talk much yet (bilingual kids always take longer), but she's very playful and agile. A fearless climber.

And manages to convey a lot nonverbally.

New couch

It's the end of the academic year: moving-out season for a lot of our neighbors. The people across the street left a very comfortable couch on the curb with a big sign that said "Free." So we brought it in. Henry helped Ann and Ken vacuum and shampoo it. This is in case we actually get to move into that two-story apartment in the house we're trying to buy in Arlington.

Meanwhile, good for jumping!

With Grandma Ann

Another favorite game is Rockabye Baby. Does it make him nostalgic or something?

"I'm gonna be right back. Bye!"

We think this game is about attachment. He closes the gate, walks a few feet, turns around and comes back in. It's important to him that you be standing inside the gate waiting for him.

Riding the turtle

Sorry about the smudge on the lens. But this gives an idea of Henry's newfound fearlessness in certain situations.


Look, Ma, only one foot!

Scenic nap

Sunday -- Mother's Day -- Henry and I went for a walk to the park while Ken went to the airport to pick up his mom. I had hoped to tire Henry out on the playground so he would take a nice nap in the afternoon. But he fell asleep before we got there.

Woe to those who think they have any control over these things!

"And then Daddy had to come kiss him..."

Henry tells part of the story of his fall from bed and the events that followed.

(Can anyone figure out that last word he says? Ken and I are stumped.)

Growth chart

We told you he was big.

Not even two years old, and already almost 3/5 the size of his mom.

Big enough to help out with the chores!

Goofing around with Dad

For some reason, the removal of his crib put Henry into an extremely good mood.

Reprising an old favorite game:

Restoring the glasses to their rightful nose.

Happy Henry (rug burn notwithstanding).

No more crib

We should have known. He's been swinging his leg over the bar of his crib for over a week now. But yesterday it finally happened: we awoke to a crash, followed by screaming. Looks like Henry's crib days are over!

Fortunately he got off easy: only a little bump on his head, a scrape on his chin, and what might be some rug burn on his nose.

Now he graduates to the big-boy arrangement: a mattress on the floor, just like Mommy and Daddy have.

He doesn't seem to mind. (Neither do Cat, Monkey, Doggie, or The Bear Wearing a Black Hat Called a Fez.) But we feel ambivalent. Ken was proud of Henry for having the nerve (he put it a bit more strongly than that) to jump out of his crib by himself, even if he fell. But now we have to pay for our mixed success -- i.e., failure -- at sleep training. You can't just leave him to cry to sleep, our usual (very quick) method. Now he can get out of bed and make all kinds of mischief.

We'll have to see how this develops...

Henry at the Park on a Warm Spring Day

Henry spends a lot of time at the East Rock Park Playground. Often he is more interested in gathering wood chips and giving them to standers by than in playing on the equipment. In the last picture is his day-care colleague, Hannah.

Sardines

Anya and Nick came with sardines to grill on Thursday.

"The tree's butt"

It's hard not to get pre-nostalgic about New Haven. Delicate early greens of a cold late spring. East Rock Park feels as wild as lots of hiking trails in New Hampshire. (This is my route when I go running - about 45 minutes for the loop.) Ducks, geese, last year a family of swans. Yesterday, a few swallows swooping around. Henry must have spent half an hour running back and forth on this bridge.

He enjoyed playing in the roots of the big trees - "legs," he called them. So of course, by logical extension, he decided this was "the tree's butt."

Who are we to argue?