May 2001 Archives

Traveling with Henry has given me a new perspective on things. My memories of traveling with my family as a kid are great. Two week long (or more) driving vacations gave me the chance to see much more of the country than most any of my friends. I missed out on the foreign travel, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. With Henry, now I'm the parent in the front seat.

When I walk around carrying Henry in the Bjorn, lots of things happen. I start doing strange contortions to try to figure out whether he's asleep (or whether the hat has slipped down over his eyes). My back hurts. But the most interesting thing is the reactions of other people. Most people smile, either at Henry or at me or, most often, first at Henry, then at me. People who, I'm quite certain, wouldn't ordinarily smile at me if their lives depended upon it, smile at Henry. It's like magic. But there's more.

Henry is 7 months old today. Wow. He is an older baby, on his way to toddlerhood. For a few weeks, he has been crawling around army style, dragging his belly on the ground and pulling himself forward with his hands, barely using his legs. Over the last few days, however, he has been doing push ups on his hands and toes, sticking his butt up in the air, and then rocking back and forth. (I am told that when I was a baby, this is how I crawled; didn't want to get my knees scuffed.) Every so often, he'll pull one or both legs up underneath himself, so he ends up on hands and knees for a few seconds. And sometimes when doing this, he lurches forward, headlong into anything in his path. He is clearly experimenting with how to move and he is obviously elated with the results. If you put anything new and different down in his line of sight (a shoe, a plate, the newspaper, the laundry, a dust bunny), he makes a beeline for it. After exploring it briefly with his hands, he'll try chewing on it in case it might soothe his teething gums. Electrical cords are marvelous. So the child-proofing continues on a daily basis.

Henry is screaming right now. I am in another room, with the door closed. I actually sat here for half a minute with my hands over my ears. I have almost never done this. He is with his dad; I didn't just leave him. But I have tried everything I could think of: nursing on each breast in a variety of positions, playing with favorite toys, a walk outside, a visit to the monkey mobile, walking around the house, music, singing. None of the usual things is working. None of the unusual things is working. I think his teeth may be bothering him, but he wouldn't let me rub his gums so I can't be sure. I feel like crap. His screaming is just getting more desperate. He hasn't really screamed like this in a while. It is awful. It is the end of the world. And yet it isn't. I know he will stop, he will be okay, we will be okay. But right now, it is the end of everything. Nothing will feel right for a while. I can't stand it anymore. I have to go.

We take a lot of walks. Pretty much every day, we're out walking around Green Lake, strolling through Magnuson Park, or just wandering around our neighborhood. Henry loves walks. He rides along in his Baby Bjorn, watching the world go by or drifting off to sleep (or playing "little botanist," but that's a story for another day).

Today, Henry crawled from the living room to the dining room. Brad was watching him as he did it; I was down in the basement doing some laundry. When I went downstairs, Henry was in the middle of the living room, playing with some of his toys. When I returned, Henry was in the dining room investigating my sneakers. (Yes, my "we just walked around Green Lake so who knows what besides goose poop is on these" sneakers. I try to think of these sorts of things as immune system boosters.)

Anyway, Brad pointed out later that this was Henry's first inter-room excursion. I guess we shouldn't put off the baby proofing much longer. Cabinet opening and drawer pulling are not far off. It's cool, but an adjustment. I had finally started understanding the needs of baby Henry and now, here comes Henry the toddler! Well, actual toddling is likely still a ways off, but Henry's newfound mobility has really changed things. Sometimes he cries and squirms because he wants to be put down. He no longer really fits on my lap when he nurses. He's getting a bunch of teeth all at once. Suddenly, he seems older. I love all these things (well, I'm not sure about the teeth...) and yet I feel wistful. I didn't appreciate Henry's newborn time enough. I was too tired, too worried about him, too overwhelmed. At least we have a lot of pictures, so my failing memory won't deprive me completely of the happy times we had. Brad and I decided we'd take a picture of Henry every day of his first year. I think we've only missed one or two days so far. We have a picture of one of Henry's first smiles, in his sleep.