month nine: in review

It does not seem like nine months ago that I slept on the chair in our living room, and woke up with a terrible backache that seemed to get worse every ten minutes.


It does not seem like nine months ago that I tried to convince your father that even if the pain I was having were contractions, they weren't really that bad and maybe we could still make it to the Fourth of July parade on Coronado Island.


Alas, my patriotic idea was vetoed by the vast majority, and instead of attending a parade, nine months ago today - I went to the hospital and delivered the most beautiful and perfect singleton baby I could have ever wished for.


Although I want nothing more than for you to stay the size you are, right now, time has a way of rolling on. As bittersweet as it is to see my baby grow up, I'm happy to report that each day with you is better than the last.


You are unlike any other baby, Henry. People, absolute strangers, are drawn to you. You have a way of lighting up a room with your cheery disposition, two-tooth smile and gorgeous kaleidoscope eyes that will unfalteringly gaze at whomever you see.


You have your father's demeanor. You are extremely curious, contagiously happy, and the only time you cry is when you are tired or hungry.


You always want to be a part of the action. And unlike when the triplets were infants - and I had baby gates set up all over the house - you are free to roam (almost) where ever your heart desires.


With all the rolling and twisting and crawling that you have become so proficient at, getting you dressed is the most challenging thing I do, all day. You bustle around the house so fast, and every so often, I will have absolutely no idea where you have gone.


I'll summon everyone's help by frantically asking "Where's the baby? Oh my goodness!! WHERE'S THE BABY?!?!" and someone, usually not me, will spot you beneath one of the kitchen chairs - or wedged behind our sofa - eating something you've plucked off the floor.


The challenge of dressing you is rivaled only by the challenge of feeding you. The way that you duck and weave your head, it would be easier to feed a bobble head a jar of jumping beans on a bumpy road.


And this month, you have really turned your nose up to baby food - preferring in it's place nursing. Or, yogurt, cottage cheese, chunks of various fruit, crackers and toast.


Oh, and french fries.


Yes, yes, I know. You shouldn't be eating french fries. But here's the thing: I'm a lot more relaxed with you, then I ever was with your siblings. Aside from the fact that there were baby gates up all over the house until they were two and a half, your brother and sisters didn't have their first bite of ice cream until they were 18-months. I would fervently exclaim "Absolutely NO dairy!" to anyone that came near them with a spoon and a carton of vanilla.

But I've learned a few things in motherhood.

One of them is that taking an ice cream cone, with coffee ice cream - nonetheless, away from a baby makes him very unhappy.


But letting him devour the whole thing makes him extremely happy.

Oh and how I love to see you happy!


I am certainly happier now that you are sleeping more. Within the past few weeks, you have dropped your late afternoon nap and I have been putting you to bed around 6:30 PM. You will typically sleep until 5:00 AM, although some mornings you wake up a little earlier. Last month, I was steadfast on not getting you before 6:00 AM, but this month, I have softened. Usually, you'll come to bed with us and I'll nurse you for a few minutes before you fall back to sleep until at least 7:00 AM. You then happily go down for your first nap (whether you appear tired or not) at 9:00 AM and your second nap of the day is at around 1:30 PM.


You are really starting to get in to your siblings stuff - and this is making them a little nuts. There are several times throughout the day when I will hear them yell "NO HENRY!! NO!!", but for the most part, they really do think you are swell.

You bring so much love and happiness to this family and at least once a day - I find the need to pinch myself to make sure this isn't all a dream. God knows every time I look at you, I thank the heavens above for sending you in to my life. You absolutely fill my heart.

Thank you for coming in to our world, baby Henry.


We love you so very much.