Month Six

Dear Henry,

Today marks your sixth month on the planet. And it's weird because it feels like just yesterday you came into our world with your ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes, your sweet baby belly and your cute little ears, sporting your Grandpa Glynn's nose. How much you have grown. True to form, you continue on your amazing journey to boyhood with gusto, completely intrigued by everything around you. You are quicker to laugh, faster to frustration, and, finally, on some semblance of a sleep schedule that has us getting at least six hours of sleep at night. Because, let's face it, I hardly notice when I have to wake up to feed you during the night. We've got that side breast feeding position licked!
You are the epitome of all that is good in this world. Scratch that, it's not really fair. All babies are the epitome of all that is good in this world. And since you are our baby, living in our world, you are the epitome of all that is good for us. The cats adore you, and remain your creature companions whenever you nap. Just this morning you took an interest in Beauty the wonder dog that has brought her into your fold. With a soft lick of your hand and a sniff of your face, she signaled she understands her role as protector has been expanded to include you as well. Now those fears that she might some day try to eat you - you are very tiny and cute - can be packed away and we can once again focus our concerns on how we're going to come up with the Benjamins to pay for college. Our current plans rest on scholarships so, please, study hard.
Walking. You love it. It is a natural extension of standing, which was your first love. Sitting, on the other hand, seems to bug you. Perhaps because it confines you to one space. And one space is just not interesting enough to hold your attention for long. There are places to go and things to see, through eyes that have not yet settled on a definitive color. We feel confident they will not be blue but that's as far as we can guess right now. Hazel, green, brown - it's still up in the air. Perhaps we should open up the gambling to try and earn you some money for your piggy bank? Your dad isn't much of a betting human, but I am so when you're old enough, you will have a constant gambler at your disposal. I'll even let you pick the team you want first. And despite my abysmal record when it comes to paying your father the few times he has won, I'll pay you, on time and in small dollar bills that fill up your tiny kid wallet, after putting ten percent in savings, of course.
This past month you celebrated your first Easter and attended your first political rally in support of Hillary Clinton, who may just be the first female president for the United States. Unfortunately, your parents are lacking in religious spirituality so while our Easter did involve spending time with family and having a nice dinner, it didn't extend beyond that. Despite my own beliefs, I do struggle with this quite a bit - how best to serve you as a parent. I want you to find your own path and form your own opinions. Well, in everything but politics. You have to be a Democrat, at least for now, until you can form words and construct persuasive arguments to explain why being a Republican is better. You performed marvelously at the rally, nabbing your first press in the Portland Tribune. You were nursing during the interview but the reporter either didn't realize it or didn't think it was appropriate to put in print. You charmed the heck out of the lesbian couple and the grandparents that were next to us in line. The din inside scared you a bit but the three young girls sitting behind us were all too happy to entertain you. That is, until you puked on them.
You have learned how to scream. Big, balls to the walls howls that at first surprised you but now delight you with their operatic tenor. To be sure, these outbursts are not let loose upon the walls of our abode for any specific reason but rather as an act of expression. You like to express yourself, my dear, and our ears are suffering for it. You have finally discovered your feet but are unable to get them into your mouth as we've seen other, more flexible babies do. And you are aware that you have a tongue, sticking it out at us, blowing bubbles with it, sucking ice with it. You have even used it to taste your first produce. Bananas! Sadly, it was a taste that made you pull back and shake your head from side to side to get rid of. Perhaps you were hoping for filet mignon?
As far as mobility is concerned, you roll over like a champ and can scoot backwards and do this 360-type belly turn. Sometimes this means you come close to rolling off the bed despite the fact that we have strategically placed heavy pillows on the edges to prevent exactly that. Your favorite game these days is the parachute game. Given your penchant for being under sheets and blankets, I predict forts will be very big in your future. Oh, and you enjoy hanging upside down, baby somersaults, and when your parents each take an end and swing you with a 1-2-3 motion before carefully setting you down on whatever surface is available.
The only gripe I am aware of is your car seat. In order to be placed in it, I have to fold you, steer you butt-first into the seat, and quickly fasten the belts before you arch your back to the point of making it impossible to buckle you in. We were concerned the seat was causing you pain but have heard this is fairly normal. The 'dear God, don't make me sit in that horrid orange seat' reaction we get from you. You're simply learning you have freewill. Unfortunately for you, we can manhandle that freewill. But once you are in the car and we are moving you relax and enjoy the motoring.
I picked up this book called Little Boy for your sixth month day present - I'm big on presents, it's a sickness - and I read it to you earlier this afternoon only the last page got me a little verklempt so here's in print what I couldn't read to you out loud:

Little boy, you remind me how
so much depends on days made of now.

Love,
Mom