Latin

I tried to explain that Latin is primarily a written language, and that he probably needs to learn to read before he learns to read Latin, but he was pretty determined to go after this book today. Although, I didn't let him devour it like he wanted.

Henry's new trick

Happy Halloween

Daddy picked out the costume (Go Dawgs!) and we headed out in the stroller to the houses in our cul-de-sac. We met up with some neighbors and trick-or-treated together for a few houses. Henry said he was happy to share his candy with us.

Rise and shout!

Rah, rah, rah! Go, Cougars!

And then ...

Henry rolled front to back tonight before dinner, like he had been doing it all long and it wasn't a big deal. My clapping and cheering just seemed to confuse him. And when I rolled him over, he rolled himself right back, showing that it wasn't a fluke. He's so close to crawling, and then, and then, and then....

Six months

Henry turned six months old this week. I can't get enough of him. He's a friendly, people person in a reserved sort of way. Taking him out in my arms or the baby carrier is the best way to interact with the nicest people, or at least the nicest parts of people. He takes a minute to warm up to new faces, but then can hardly stop smiling and flirting. He's cautious with his laughs unless he's tired. He is studious and deliberate in examining--and tasting--new things. He loves his mama and daddy, and saves the biggest, readiest smiles for us. He's had the two bottom teeth for nearly a month and loves to chew on anything he can get his hands on and his mouth around. He hates to be left alone even for a minute, and isn't a fan of being on his tummy. But he still can't roll back to his back, although he's awfully close. He started pushing up with his arms a week or two ago, and between that and the enthusiastic frog-leg kicking, unintentionally moves back when he is on his belly. So we've reached the stage where I put him to bed in one corner of the crib and later find him wedged in the opposite corner, stopped from his progression by the sides of the crib. He's getting better again at sleeping at night. Naps during the day are still a struggle for both of us, and I end up holding him for the nap as often as I can to get him to actually sleep. Thankfully, he's over the worst of his "I hate the car" phase. And his out-grow-clothes-every-six-weeks streak may also be at an end., although he's in twelve to eighteen month clothes, depending on the brand. His thighs get approving comments frequently, and his belly makes it impossible for him to wear tee-shirts instead of onesies; when I do put him in a tee-shirt, I spend all day pulling it down or it spends all day around his armpits. We have "grandma kisses" nearly every day; I'll kiss him for my mom, and for Clint's mom, and for my grandmas, and then say that he'll get angel kisses from his other grandmas. I love this boy ... to the moon and back, more than biscuits and gravy, always, all ways, and forever.

Henry's hats

I owe a long post with many more pictures of our summer, especially our trip to Alaska, but for now you get Henry wearing hats.


Keeping the sun off the baby.


Ready to pillage.


Grrrr


Not quite a hat, but kind of on his head. (He wasn't actually listening to anything ...)

Random

Henry, rocking his daddy's alma matter. I'm still hunting for a BYU onesie, but we do sing "Rise and shout the cougars are out!" several times a week.

When I manage to read the paper, I usually check out our horoscope (Clint and I are the same sign) for fun. After Henry was born, I added his sign to my perusal. There have been several that have made me laugh when applied to my baby. Here's one from a few weeks ago:
You are difficult to predict, and that is precisely why so many people are watching you now. Even you are not so sure what your next move will be, but its sure to be exciting.

A July evening

The humidity tonight is something awful--the kind of clingy, stickiness that fogs your glasses just because you walked outside, and hangs on you like a sick child. Breathing is a chore and movement slows down as you try to swim through the soup. It has me dreaming of cooler climbs, of cold-from-the-tap water and evenings that last into the night. But until I am breathing tingly-crisp air again, I'll be grateful for the ice machine and the air conditioner.

===
This Henry picture is a few days old. When I discovered the pockets in this outfit were real, rather than just decorative over-stitching, I envisioned a picture of my sweet boy with his hands in his pockets. He refused to cooperate with my plan, but at least agreed to smile for the camera and his mama.

A July evening

The humidity tonight is something awful--the kind of clingy, stickiness that fogs your glasses just because you walked outside, and hangs on you like a sick child. Breathing is a chore and movement slows down as you try to swim through the soup. It has me dreaming of cooler climbs, of cold-from-the-tap water and evenings that last into the night. But until I am breathing tingly-crisp air again, I'll be grateful for the ice machine and the air conditioner.

===
This Henry picture is a few days old. When I discovered the pockets in this outfit were real, rather than just decorative over-stitching, I envisioned a picture of my sweet boy with his hands in his pockets. He refused to cooperate with my plan, but at least agreed to smile for the camera and his mama.

Happy Independence Day

We spent the weekend with family in a pretty low-key mode. I didn't even make it into my red, white, and blue today. I'm listening to fireworks instead of watching them. Despite my lack of celebration, I'm grateful for our freedoms, and for those who have fought for them over the years.

And I'm grateful for my very own Yankee Doodle Dandy this year. This is the anniversary weekend of finding out about our pregnancy and of telling Clint's family. I've tried telling Henry about it, but he just smiles at me.

Three months

He's not a newborn anymore, by any account. He hasn't really seemed like one for a few weeks, except in small moments when he is asleep, his head thrown back and legs curled up when I pick him up from the crib. I've asked him several times to stay little for a little while longer, but he just smiles at me, obviously in love but unable to oblige.

Last week, I had to pull out the six-to-nine month clothes, and it broke my heart just a little that there was no "3" in his size just as he reached three months. It seems unfair that I can't remember every moment of his little-ness, between the sleep deprivation of those short weeks and how quickly they flew by.

He seems almost ready to roll over, making it to his left side easily on a regular basis. I imagine he'll be quite surprised and maybe a little dismayed when he doesn't stop himself with his outstretched arms and legs.

Heartbreaker

I thought he was asleep when I tried to put him down, but I guess I woke him up when I got out of the chair (I often do) and he looked up at me with the most amazing smile...and I just melted. It wasn't one of the great, big smiles and laughs that I work for as often as I can (they are so addictive!). It was a quieter one, but one full of love.

Earlier at church, when Angel and I put the kids on the chair for pictures, they ended up grabbing hands (they were there!) and holding on tightly until we picked them up. The picture makes me smile. Clint, when told the story, approved of the family choice. Then again, the way Henry was holding on, he might not have cared if Clint hadn't approved.

Saturday evening

Henry's decided he likes hanging out cF outside, so Thursday just before the storm started, I dragged our rocker to the front porch. Since then, we've spent time listening to the rain or birds and the hum of the air conditioners. Right now, he's alternating between going at his fist like it's a meltng ice cream cone and batting at the phone. I noticed today that he primarily bats with his right hand; I guess that means he's not a southpaw.

Henry's other favorite is snuggled in and looking over my shoulder. Two people in two days commented on how snuggly Henry is. If I remember right, Clint's dad said Clint was the same when he was a baby.

An ice cream truck just drove past, Henry's first time seeing one. Even though there was nothing in front of him, he was batting his arm like he was trying to get the truck to stop. We let the truck pass by tonight, but I'm lookin forward to making memories of cold treats on the porch with my sweet boy when he is older.

Growing

Maybe the fussy bits of the last few days have been as much about growing as his two month shots. This morning when I went to get Henry out of his crib, he seemed more interested in the alphabet and animals on the wall than me. And now he's enjoying tummy time with his head high, just checking everything out.

Eight weeks

His hair is growing in on top and his baby acne is mostly gone. His smiles are addictive, and thankfully frequent. For a while tonight, he was only happy when he was sitting up; he can hold his head up so well.

There are so many things I want to remember, like the way he leaves his pointer finger out when his fists are clenched, or the way he looks like he is playing air guitar or doing the breast stroke when he moves his arms. Or the sound of his laugh in his sleep. Or the way his head smells when he sleeps on my chest.

He loves his mama, and loves to be held, which makes it hard to capture all of these memories (I'm "typing" this with one thumb on my phone while he nurses.)

I love this baby boy.

One month

Henry is one month old this week. He's growing like a weed--he's already 3 pounds more than he weighed when he was born and he's an inch taller, too. I think he's about to outgrow several of the 0 to 3 month sleepers, although the onesies still fit just fine. Which is good, sinceh still hasn't worn them all at least once.

I feel as if I can see the edge of the new Normal, although we're not quite there yet. I've ventured out to run errands on my own with mixed success. We've made it to most of our appointments on time, but I'm still hesitant to commit to anything before noon. We're still figuring out the sleeping and feeding things, although we hav the basics down. I'm still not sure what I'm supposed to be doing with him when he's not eating or sleeing, and I wory that I should be doing more, although I'm not sure what that would be. Clint's been amazing and is a great dad; it's sweet to watch the boys interact. Mostly, I still find myself looking at Henry, amazed that he's here, perfect, and ours.

Henry and Big Bear, made by my mom when I was a baby. I'm planning on doing comparison shots for the next few months with these two.

We introduced the pacifier last week. Henry likes it well enough, but he can't seem to keep it in his mouth for very long. He came up with this solution all by himself.

Henry makes the best sad and mad faces. I was trying to capture it at one point (and so far haven't succeeded) but this attempt--with the finger pointing at the slogan on his shirt--cracks me up.

Daddy and Henry

I love my boys.

Sleepy boy

He is two weeks old tomorrow, and already I feel as if I've lost my baby. His cheeks are filling out and he doesn't seem quite as little as he once did. He's been fighting sleep for hours, but has finally given in, at least for now.

We miss Grandma

After my very first appointment with the OB, when my due date was set as March 8, we looked at the calendar with my mom and realized that her spring break was the last full week of March and that it would be the perfect time for her to come out and meet her first grandbaby. Since none of the Ricker cousins had gone past their due date, and since the doctor I was with at the time said he wouldn't let me go past 41 weeks, the baby was sure to be here by the time she came.

We switched insurance plans in January and the policy of the new practice is to wait to induce until 42 weeks, which while I appreciate, caused me all sorts of consternation when my due date came and went without any progress, because that meant my mom could be here before the baby came, and that the blessing, which we planned based on my parents' visit, would be much closer to the birth than we had anticipated. As it was, Mom arrived 24-hours before we started the induction and was able to come to the hospital and meet her grandson hours after he was born. And she was able to change her ticket and stay a few more days to help out, which was a great blessing as I have recovered from the c-section and tried to follow the guidelines to do so.

Grandma left for home Friday afternoon, and we were all sad about it. Even Henry cried when she left. We're all counting down the days until our visit to Alaska this summer. And I know we're all grateful for digital photos and video chats.

Happy Henry

The post-meal high. He's a darling boy.

Baby Henry

Baby Henry's one week old today, and his umbilical cord is hanging on by a thread. He sprouted some baby acne overnight, and he's the sweetest thing ever. I think his cheeks are getting fuller. At his doctor's appointment yesterday, he had already gained back his birth weight, and then some.


We blessed Baby Henry on Sunday, surrounded by family, both in person and in spirit. The vest he wore was a handmade gift from a family friend, as was the blanket that kept him warm. I love the imagery of welcoming a baby into the community and the literal and figurative holding, surrounding, supporting, and loving the baby and the new family.









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