Well, I’ve had a couple glasses of wine and I think that qualifies me to write the “what has the last year been like?” posting. Don’t you?
Since you asked…the past year has been, well, marvelous. I can’t think of a better word. Henri is absolutely, without a doubt, 100% and then some, the bestest baby ever born. Those of you with children: don’t even think about contradicting me on this. This kid is way too cool. And those of you thinking about having children: don’t. Your [future] kid can’t possibly be this cool. There’s only so much good-baby-ness that goes around every 100 years or so, and we got the majority of it.
In case you don’t believe me (CYNICS!), witness this:
- Most parenting magazines have generous and lengthy columnar advice on the hassles of feeding anyone over, say, 2 days old. Let me tell you, we have not had a problem in this area. Henri has yet to meet a food he doesn’t like. Well, the first time he tried a pickle, he did look at us like WTF did you just give me, bitches? but the next time we gave it to him, he sucked it dry. So, that totally doesn’t count. I read these articles warning and cajoling parents of picky toddlers and finicky babies and I think, God, parenting a non-Henri must be so HARD. Seriously…I can still recall the day when his doctor forewarned us that babies prefer non-green veggies. Clearly, Henri wasn’t listening. His first favorite vegetable was definitely peas. And he’ll still eat the gigantic Stage 3 “Pea Soup Medley” like there’s no tomorrow. So, yes, to recap. H-man = liking food. (color doesn’t really matter)
- And yet, there’s no indication of this love. Mark was just saying how whenever he mentions Henri being a “good eater” to his dad, the remark is “But he’s active. He’s not…overweight.” Which, of course, we laughed about, because being a “good eater” is our favorite thing about Henri. But Grandaddy Steve makes a good point…for a baby that eats like Henri, he’s nowhere neaaaaaaaar overweight. He’s not even in the line of sight of overweight. He only has one chin and no cankles, so…definitely NOT overweight. He has a big head. That’s it.
- Henri loves nighttime. Okay…”love” might be a strong word. But, if you time it just right, you can actually put Henri in his crib and give him a couple “dawgs” and 1,000 (or so) blankets, twirl his mobile up tight, kiss him on the forehead and say “night, night, Henri” and he’ll WAVE AT YOU. Now, I’ve had an experience or two with kiddos, and this is Not Normal Behavior. Even Emma–the former most-perfect child ever–would usually complain about “night night” time. I mean, kids don’t like to sleep, especially firstborn children. But it’s like Henri has a sixth sense or something that tells him when he’s had enough of the day. He’s just like me, only better.
- Which brings me to my next “great thing about Henri” point. He really is my mini-me. He’s onery and stubborn, but he can’t stay mad for longer than–oh, about a second. He knows what not to do and does it anyway, but only after he’s made sure you’re watching. He loves dangerous situations. He drinks way too much, way too fast. When Mark enters the room, his excitement is palpable. He wants to do everything for himself, until he realizes he can’t…and then he asks for help.
- UNLIKE me, Henri is very verbose. He talks more than my friend’s 18-month old. Nevermind that every word begins with the sound of “d,” we still know what he’s saying and it’s still amazing. And it’s not just one syllable words, either; he can say “bottle” and “again.” And he understands even more than what he can say. I don’t know…I just find it fascinating that he is so perceptive. He just seems to get it. (Like I said, this is a quality we don’t share.)
There’s plenty more I can brag about, but some other first-time-mom is probably bragging in much the same way right this very second. I mean, parenting is a global experience. And I know I’m not the first one who thinks their kid is a genius. But, I do think he’s a little ahead of the curve. I didn’t even talk until I was four, after all, and Mark didn’t know his middle name until he was something like 12-years-old (!). And, even if he isn’t a genius, he’s still way ahead of any expectation of what I might’ve thought a kid would be like.
I can finally say I’ve found my true calling: being Henri’s m-o-m. It didn’t take a lot of preparation or, really, even that much thought…it’s just a good fit. Me, and mini-me. (And McKnight, of course.)