Month Seven

Dear Henry,

I can sum up this past month in three words: food, teeth, crib. This does not mean, of course, that other things of importance didn't occur but rather that they pale in comparison to food, teeth, crib.It has been fun to introduce you to such culinary masterpieces as steamed and pureed carrots and steamed and mashed sweet potatoes. You are very adept at using your utensils, even if it means the wrong end of the spoon goes in your mouth or that the right end of the spoon goes into your mouth upside down ensuring that the food drops down the front of your shirt. Your first bites are the best because your reaction is priceless. You move your head and upper body back just a touch, as if positioning yourself away from the offensive new food. Then you do what can only be described as an upper body head wiggle, which is usually accompanied by a weird look on your face. A look that says quite clearly, "What the heck was that?" And then you dive forward to take another bite. You don't hesitate to give us signs when you are done. Your attention shifts from what we're offering on the spoon to anything else within reach. When you start to nibble on your placemat, we know you are finished for the night.
The act of teething must be the reason why babies don't form long-term memories and why parents become so forgetful. This was not a fun process. There are some yahoos out there who claim the actual act of teething takes place over a day but I'm now certain they are lying bastards, sent to convince us of such so that people will continue to procreate. Oh that it had been one solitary day, would not that have been easier? No, for us this took many days. Several days. Very long days. Days where nothing could be done to help you feel better. Days that were filled with a fussier-than-normal baby (i.e., you) and a clueless mom (i.e., me) and a pops (i.e., pops) who would return from work to find us both on edge. We managed to survive but it was a tough one. In the future when you start asking for a baby sister, prepare to hear this response when you ask why you can't have one, "Because babies get teeth. I can't handle teething again. You nearly killed me, son." From all of this, though, is the presence of two bottom teeth. Congratulations.
Your dad and I sort of decided early on that we'd try to transition you out of our bed and into your own crib after six months. I can't recall how or why we came up with this timeframe (see previous paragraph for explanation of memory loss) but that's where we were. The problem arose when you did not accept our proposal. Let's forget for the moment that your crib is currently parked less than two feet from our bed, you weren't interested in sleeping anywhere other than where you had been. When we tried, you cried. And it didn't matter how tired you were because if there is one thing we've learned to date, it's that you aren't entirely reasonable about these things. You might be tired and want sleep more than anything else in the world but that doesn't mean you will go to sleep.One night, during an attempt to put you down in your crib, your dad consulted his parenting book, which advised leaving you alone in the room, while I perused my parenting book, which stated unequivocally not to leave you alone in the room. Talk about confusing, son. We opted to rescue you after three minutes of uninterrupted cry time. Those three minutes felt like an eternity. Need I say that you were asleep with me in the big bed beside your crib in no time at all.And then you changed your mind. You have been sleeping in your crib the past three nights. Tonight makes night number four. We have wondered about this sudden change. Are you becoming an independent person? Does the hot weather make it too uncomfortable to sleep next to two warm adult bodies? Do you like your crib? We miss you being right next to us but appreciate the extra room not having you in bed affords us. We weren't thinking clearly when we bought the queen-sized bed a few years ago. Well, that, and it never would have occurred to me to have you sleep in our bed if it wasn't for all of those hippie parenting books on attachment parenting I've been reading.You have ventured to the mountain to have your first snow experience and felt the hot sun of summer approaching. I can't say you're a fan of either. Perhaps it is the extremes that are upsetting. You might just go through life longing for 70-degree days, complete with a smattering of clouds in the sky and a pleasant light rainfall at night.
You spent your first evening with a babysitter so your parents could go out and feel like real humans, even if it only lasted for about three hours before we realized we missed you terribly. And you participated in your first race of the season, I carried you the whole six plus miles. On the course we received cheers for breastfeeding and support for diaper changing. The Portland metro area in which you live is mighty cool. Many women stopped to tell me that I should write to you about this day - so you would know what we accomplished. You are my super baby.

Love,
Mom