Sweet Henry

Sweet, sweet, baby Henry. He is just my joy. Looking at this milk-splattered face, I cannot help but beam, and smile ear-to-ear, even as tired as I am at the end of this long week. A friend at work has two kids, too. She says her daughter, her first, is her heart. And her son, her second, is her smile. And you can't live without your heart, or your smile. I love the way she describes the separate, different but very equal ways a parent loves two very different children. I think it's the thing that will challenge me the most in this balancing act of parenthood. But oh, just look at that angel face...that is most definitely my smile!

Henry is evolving so much. His sweet personality shining through and transcending the lack of verbal communication between us. Having so many years without a baby, and even though I documented and committed so much of Matthew's infancy to memory, I still forgot how magical it is to love and learn a person who speaks an entirely different language than you.

Henry is rather quiet for the most part, but once you get him going, just hold on! The poor child can hardly get in a word edgewise around here. So when he finds he has the floor he will certainly run with it for as long as he's able. 

But where is holds back in speech he more than makes up for in physicality! When I found him face down in his crib, and he rolled over back to front at 3 months, I should have caught on. But this kid is one active little brute. He's so close to crawling we can all taste it. In fact he may have inched his way in his first scoot this morning. Diaper changes and getting dressed are starting to resemble Cirque de Soleil. I'm brainstorming on names for the show. I'm torn between "Frustrasia" and Irritasmia." Voting begins soon. 
 

And his feet. Oh these feet. He is obsessed with them. (Ever seen anyone else so "namaste" with their feet?!) I have actually seen him GAG himself on his own feet he shoved them so far down his own throat. What do I do with that? And he's just as hand-sy as he is foot-sy. Grabs everything. I am surprised Emmitt has any fur left.

But Henry's most favorite thing about his new world, I have to say, has got to be Matthew. When it's late in the day, and he's out of sorts, and nothing I try seems to hit the mark, Matthew can just walk through the door and make it all okay again. I was completely unprepared for the bond between them. Matthew tolerates this foreign creature with quite a lot of grace for someone his age. But Henry unapologetically adores his older brother. My favorite pastime is standing in the shadows while they interact and watching their new dance unfold. I'm not drunk. I know there are fights and arguments and blame games and half-truths ahead of us the likes of which I cannot even imagine at this point. But even these moments are building a forever connection I pray carries them through everything life will undoubtedly throw their way.