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!  

Yes....

 That is what you think it is. 

Henry!!!

**If you were mesmerized by that beautiful smile, and missed the color change on the floor, let me draw your attention to that schmear of mustard-yellow poopie beneath my baby's feet!   

3 Months of Henry

You're showing off a little leg there, my boy. You and all your pudgy sweet self!  Gimme some sugar.

I am so proud of Henry.  At 15 weeks, he is finally sleeping through the night consistently.  In fact, one morning I woke up and realized that was the first time I knew anything since going to sleep the night before.  It's been a long time since that's happened.  (Even during my pregnancy, I couldn't make it through the night without waking up to go to the little girl's room.)  I wish I could say he did it all by himself, but I had to give him a little nudge in the right direction and ignore his habit of waking up halfway through the night for a snack.  It took less than 20 minutes of whimpering at 4 am the first night of my mama protest.  I had failed to communicate my plans with Jason, and he kicked at me to let me know Henry was awake.  Light sleeper that I am, and grumpy when woken up, I may have snarled back. 

The next night, Henry whimpered once or twice.  The next night he groused for 10-15 minutes.  Every night since then has been one little cry or nothing at all, and it's lasted for a week.  Thank you, God!!!  Now if I could just make myself go to bed earlier...

Crocheted Baby Hat Fail

Really, Mom?  Really? 

 
Are you that ashamed of my head?

Then I'm hanging with Uncle Kevin.

Can someone bring me a tie?

Miles of Smiles

What we're up to lately:  seeing who can get the biggest and best Henry smile.  Cooing is bonus, and worthy of a loud, immediate report to mama.  "HENRY COOED!!!!!!  HENRY COOED AT ME!!!!!!!!"  Yes, it breaks my "Yelling is Unnecessary" rule.

 I've taken to calling this sweet baby "Hen."  Jason is appalled.  But mamas need to have lovey nicknames for their kids, don'tcha think?

Hen and I have intriguing conversations late at night, and by intriguing, I mean I mostly talk and he mostly listens.  Love this squeezy baby!

Our Two-Month-Old

Can't believe this little sweetie has been here for two months already!  In some ways, it seems so much longer than that.  But sleep deprivation has been known to mess with my perception of time, among other things.

In two months, Henry has climbed from the 25th to the 50th percentile for weight, and now is 11 pounds, 11 ounces.  He does love to eat.  My goal was to give him a bottle feeding every evening, to keep him "sharable."  We started out great with that, but I forgot to keep it going.  He will still take a bottle, but he dribbles and messes around with it instead of getting down to business.  In the meantime, I forgot how active one can be while nursing a baby.  Manage the DVR recordings?   Sure!  Read MOPS training manuals? No problem!  Take something out of the oven?  Think I can manage that.  Get up and answer the phone?  Nah, they can leave a message!

His brothers and sister still adore him.  Helen is especially great at calming him, and takes a lot of pride in doing so.  Lately she told me, "Mom, I had to lift his head twice."  I didn't think much of it until a little Mommy-alarm went off in my head, and I asked her to show me how she had done it.  My five-year-old, while sitting, had scooped him up and bounced him, then clunked him back down on the floor.  I, with breath in check, calmly told her that was not an independent activity.  Little Mommy repeated a variation of that yesterday, which may have been worse.  I heard some small bonk-bonk-bonk that sounded like, and turned out to be, a tiny head tapping the floor.  Imagine that.

Henry just began to like the Exersaucer.  I was so happy to find a new (used) one on our church's yard sale.  So far the new toys have been attracting the older kids rather than entertaining the baby.  I had to remove the most obnoxious ones and hide them.  What is it with that?! 

I am so grateful for a happy baby.  We had a little taste of horrible fussiness when he got his immunizations. It lasted for two days.  I was ready to pull out my hair, or at least huddle in a corner and cry my eyes out.  Chocolate was definitely consumed.  This morning, that cranky baby changed back into my smiling sweetheart.  Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!

A parting question:  What books are you reading right now?  These 15 to 20-minute feedings aren't going to go away, and I really should be using the time to expand my mind rather than drool over HGTV.

Jack and the Monster Combine

Life is flying along, and all the kids are growing.  It's great to see them gradually, although reluctantly on their parts, becoming more responsible.  They are reaching new privileges.  But it's bittersweet to see them sprouting up and outgrowing their clothes.  I just sold a bunch of Helen's old outfits on a yard sale, and the memories!  I'm a sentimental sap for sure.

I even had to part with some of Henry's tiny baby things!  The little guy is out of the newborn stage, and at his 2-month well-baby check up today weighed 11 pounds, 11 ounces.  He's still not totally excited about the Bumbo seat.  It's a good thing he's oblivious to the fact that it's purple, or he would really hate it.  It's also a good thing his daddy is color blind. 

Jack hit a first lately--his first purchase!  He was with Jason at Hendrix Tractor Supply, and his eyes caught a...MONSTER COMBINE!!!!!  (Written in my most awe-inspired tone.)  Since Jack couldn't forget about the toy, Jason called the dealership and got a price on it.  They mistakenly gave a price that was out of the range of Jack's piggy bank, but Jack was determined to do some work to earn the difference.  He was even asking me for chores!

Jason double-checked the toy the next time he was in the store for farm business, and saw the mistake which was grossly in Jack's favor.  At the next opportunity, he took Jack and his money into Hendrix, and returned with one little pleased customer.

Jack is still convinced that everyone on the face of the earth is extremely interested in his monster combine.  He will boldly inform anyone who will listen of his fine purchase.  He also has a realistic fear that it might get broken by rough play, and so, without much tact, will warn some people that he doesn't want them to have it because he doesn't want the auger to break.

His baby brother is still a safe admirer, and so he took some time to demonstrate its capabilities to him.

Sleepyheads

Yawn.........

Excuse me.

I've been having a lot of mornings like this.

Because of this!

Henry was five weeks old yesterday.  Each day this week,* I've thought how nice it would be to take him to the doctor for another weight check.  And then reality smacks me over the head, and I fall asleep in the recliner to the sound of another recorded PBS Kids show.  I can tell by the way he's pudging out of his skin that he is growing.  His neck is slowly disappearing into a double chin, and his legs are transforming from spindly to creas-ed chubbiness.  I poured him into his "Little Brother" onesie yesterday, determined to get one more wear out of it.  He fussed at my tugs to snap it closed.

A profile picture to keep everyone guessing who Henry looks like.

On Monday, Henry was irritable.  He's usually peaceful and easy to soothe.  I chalked it up to Monday-Monday, but when his fussing refused to level off in the evening, I took a good look at every inch of his little body and found a--gulp--hair in his eye.  It had fallen out of his head and gotten stuck.  How irritating for him! 

And with Valentine's Day coming up, my house needed a little decorating cheer.  I've had this heart garland bookmarked for a long time.  I made it last night while Jason was watching some horrible, nightmare-inducing show about noodling.

I used leftover felt scraps and followed the color scheme of a Valentine's napkin I bought on discount after the holiday two years ago.  (What?  Me?  Save crazy things for long periods of time?  Nah.)

See!  Easy! I sewed it together with fun orange thread and had myself a new garland.

Helen said that Valentines are always red.  If that's the worst critique it gets, I can handle it!

*Except for Tuesday, when I broke out of the house to see my friends at MOPS!

Snapshots of Henry

I'm loving this little Henry boy and all his sweet pudginess.  I'm logging plenty of holding hours during feeding times (and between them too.)  I'm also in the newborn fog that comes with the territory as our whole family is getting acquainted with another member.  I forgot how difficult and exhausting it could be to nudge a wee one onto a feed/wake/sleep schedule.  I've had more than a few nighttime settle-the-baby moments where I'd have rather been sleeping!

But what a cutie!  Who happens to be losing hair faster than you can dial Hair Club for Men.

And whose eyes are still learning to focus together. Heh heh. 

His cord fell off early, but his belly button still hasn't completely healed.  I noticed a very small amount of dried blood with diaper changes.  It's definitely not infected, but I'm keeping a close eye on it.  I tried some Curious George bandages one day, but his skin reacted to the adhesive, just like his mama's does, and made the situation worse.  I'm now keeping it as open to the air as possible, which means folding down the front of his diaper to let it breathe.  Poor sweet baboo.

He's making mouth movements that are precursor to smiles.  I'm still waiting for the real thing!  I look deep into his eyes to coax one out of him, and he gazes back...at the lights behind or above me.

Until then, I'll settle for him taking good naps. 

Oh, yes, and buddy boy was up to 9 lbs, 4 oz., at his 3-week weight check. 

He's Here!

 We are so happy to announce the birth of our healthy, screaming son, Henry Quinn Weber.

January 5, 2012

8:56 am

6 lbs., 6.3 oz.

18 3/4"

Mama's little gnome.

After a few weeks of perpetual nervousness from strong Braxton Hicks contractions and one and a half full-blown false alarms, our doctor scheduled an induction of labor two days before my due date.  

Failure to launch at 38 1/2 weeks.

Here I am, right before going to the hospital for the first time with false alarm #1.  I was almost 39 weeks.  Catch that nervous twitch in my eye?  I had seen the doctor that morning, and all the way home had regular contractions.  As I was making pizza for supper, I finally started timing them and realized they were coming every four minutes.  They didn't really hurt that bad, but I remembered my labor with Quinn started with regular contractions that weren't very painful.  And I thought about the hour-long drive to the hospital.  We called the grandparents and packed.  We arrived at the hospital, but after several long rounds of walking and 50+ flights of stairs, we ended up coming home.  I had a lovely night's sleep, thanks to beautiful little sleeping pill that our wonderful, understanding nurse handed me.  By the way, I do not recommend traipsing up stairs if you haven't been exercising for four or more months.  I could hardly walk for three days, and couldn't cross my legs for five!

The next false alarm fortunately was stopped before we called the reinforcements.  I had woken up with really strong contractions, tossed in bed for two hours with them, then alerted Jason.  We got dressed, but then thought better of calling anyone, and settled down into comfortable spots in the living room to make sure it was the real thing.  I woke up several hours later with the contractions gone and no baby in my lap.

Doctor's orders--it's time to move out, kid!

 Our scheduled induction was a week later.  Labor and delivery felt like a doubtful dream.  I was afraid for some reason the induction would fail, and we would once again be sent home without a baby.  I had even deeper fears that something would go horribly wrong.  Despite all the confirmations that this boy was healthy, my heart still had issues with fully trusting God's decision in the whole matter.  My nurses made sure I was put in a different L&D room from Quinn's delivery, and I was so glad to not have the same ugly print on my hospital gown.  Despite my fears, I was super excited about getting that Pitocin drip, if for nothing more than the end of my uncomfortable pregnancy!

Partway through the shift, the same nurse from Quinn's delivery got called in, and I was reassigned to her!  While she and the anesthetist were orchestrating that great relief from the intense pain of childbirth, the epidural pain block, my poor dear husband had his own drama, and fell out cold on the floor, smacking the back of his neck and head against a cupboard door.  He came to very quickly, was helped to a chair by two more nurses and given a handy-dandy ice pack not customarily used for--um--head injuries.  After we realized he was OK, we had a hard time with the giggles.  Poor Jason.

Another shift change brought a familiar face--a friend from church who happens to be a very excellent L&D nurse.  It was her daughter who had taken Quinn's pictures at the hospital.  We were so very happy to see her, and she kept us distracted and entertained until it was time for business.  Not quite two hours later, Henry made his entrance into the world, crying and flailing.  I don't think there is a better sight or sound in the whole world.  And then he promptly peed on my doctor.  

Proud daddy!

So relieved and happy--plus I am NOT pregnant anymore!

Melissa and Henry

And of course, we cried.

When will the displacement reaction begin?

Mommy's already making funny faces at me!

The grandparents and kids arrived before the effects of the epidural had worn off.  I still couldn't feel my toes very well at this moment.  Helen--her sweet self came up to me a little nervously and asked if Henry was going to die.  When I assured her that he was healthy and breathing great, her face lit up.

Owen got to miss school to see his new baby brother.  What a fabulous excuse note his grandma got to write!  When he held his brother at home, he laughed out, "He's alive!  He moved his foot, and he's alive!"