Get Your Henry Fix

At 8 months, Henry remains bright-eyed, squeezable, kissable and ticklish, all the good qualities a baby should possess.

He is not crawling.  He can hold a hands/knees position for a few minutes, until he collapses in a scream fest.  He wiggles and pivots on his belly.  He likes to stand with help, but has no earthly idea of balance, or the importance of holding on to a stable point.  He stiffens his legs when I try to set him on the floor, so that he cannot be placed into a sitting position.

Usually if he is well rested and well fed, he is a very pleasant baby.  He loves his thumb, which is the cutest thing ever.

 

But lately the cute little man has been screaming his head off if he is not being held securely in my arms or is not feeding himself graham crackers.  Or so it seems.

 See?  He can sit with toys, by himself, and be happy.

 

And again.

He is getting to be a chunk, so holding him can take a toll on my back.  We weigh him most scientifically.  We use the step-on-the-bathroom-scales-with-and-then-without-the-child method.  He's between 19 and 20 pounds, according to my last estimation.  That's about 40 cheeseburgers.  (Actually, I have no idea how many cheeseburgers he weighs.  It depends on if you prefer pickles.)  Forgive me, it's late, and cheeseburgers are starting to sound good. 

Speaking of food and eating, Henry has eight teeth.  I'm waiting for all this screaming of late to produce more teeth.  Always nice to blame fussiness on teething!