Parenting Henri

this is about henri, and the parenting thereof

Big Dreams 2012/01/19

Yesterday in the car…

H: When I grow up, I’m going to be a jail-locker*, a police man, a rock guy**, a golf attendant, a baseball player and a construction worker.

M: Thinks: Golf attendant? How cute is that??

M: Wow, that’s a lot of things.

H: Yeah.  AND…I’m going to go to Kindergarten!!!


*I assume he means guard?

**Rock Star, of course


Preschool: That Wasn’t So Hard 2011/09/06

Last Tuesday was Henri’s (MY BABY!!!) first day of preschool.  Not surprisingly, I was a wreck, but managed to hold it in until he’d been dropped off.  McKnight accompanied us, which was a good thing–otherwise, I’d probably never have left (MY BABY!!!).

In typical Henri fashion, he was absolutely fine.  His only sign of distress was when I told him Mommy & Daddy were leaving. Sort of under his breath, in his crazy voice, he said: “That’s cra-azy.”  But he was fine!  This is the kid (MY BABY!!!) who was grateful for his own room at 9 months, so, yeah.  Not surprised.

Teacher’s Note from the first day: Henri “quietly observed” what we did today. That’s my cautious guy. 🙂

When I dropped him off today, new faux-hawk all spiked up, there was another kid–a 2-year-old–screaming like hell for his mom.  I had to thank the Lord that my child doesn’t do that. Truly, I wouldn’t be able to leave.  Also, it made me proud. Way to go, H-man!  No need to freak out when the mom-mom leaves.

Last night at the dinner table: “Why do I only go to school 2 days when I want to go right now?”  Whoa, now.  That’s taking it a little far…  Mom-mom needs to work up to this full time separation thing.


You’ll Be Glad to Know Henri Is Still Alive 2011/01/05

As am I…

Rather than fill you in on the past six months, or fill you up with excuses like the fact that I was teaching five classes and thus responsible for 99 students (!), I’ll just tell you what happened today.

After a blissful day at home watching cartoons-on-demand (Henri) and blogging (mom-mom), we multi-tasked. Henri bathed, while I fed him and read books in preparation for nap.  I then lathered him down with lotion as I have since he was a baby, despite protests from the boy who is no longer a baby.  Next, we read a final book and he talked himself to sleep in the “family nap” bed.

An hour and a half later, he woke up.  More specifically, he sat up and said, “I slept good.”  L-U-V.  Henri is never as sweet as when he’s slept good.  So, I put him on my lap, got his shoes, and began to explain that we had to go see one of mommy’s doctors.  “Are you sick?” he asked.  “No, I just go to talk about my feelings.”

We then drive to the appointment, which took about 30 minutes thanks to 3:30 PM traffic (WTF!?!), and–after a brief stop at Payless in which mom-mom got some awesome slipper shoes that are oh-so-cozy–we went into the building where my therapist is.  “We’re just going to walk up these stairs, and all the way down the hall,” I explain.  “How do you feel?” he responds.  How do I feel? “You mean, what am I going to talk to my doctor about?”  He nods his head.  “Oh, I feel pretty good, I guess.”  (And I do.)

Later, on the way home, after a backseat exclamation of “This is fun!” (“It is? I’m glad you like it…”), he says, “I want to hear that ‘I can’t stomp’ song.”  I think for a minute, trying to come up with a kids CD that has song about stomping on it.

“The What Song?” I stall.

“The ‘I can’t STOMP song!'”

“Ohhhhhh…. the “I can’t stop song…?”

“Yeah. I can’t stomp.”

So, I find Ratitude, pop it in, turn it up, and sing at the top of my lungs all the way home, grateful for a kid who likes Weezer and those times when, really, my life is a party I don’t want to leave.  Did I forget to mention we’d also picked up cupcakes?


Born Into It 2010/08/08

Filed under: change is good,great kid,like mother like child,suburbia — lee lee @ 8:50 am

Yesterday was my second garage sale with Henri (that we put on), and I have to say: I’m quite the lucky mom.  He didn’t complain about being bored or even get that upset when some of his {old} toys were sold to another little boy.  He also does a great job “hooking the buyer” with his good looks and cute antics.  One day, he’ll make a very good salesman, though I hope he makes the same pact I did and disregards that as a career option.  (Uh-oh; just made the connection between a love of cars and a knack for selling things. CAR SALESMAN??? Say it isn’t so!)

In fact, yesterday was one of the best days I’ve had {with Henri}.  I can only imagine how some kids might find sitting out on the driveway in the blaring sun all day less than appealing.  Add to that the kid inclincation that everything you’ve ever owned is holy and should not be sold for less than $1 to strangers, and you have a Big, Brewing Disaster Stew.  But not H-Man. Garage Sale-ing, like all other things Moving Related, are in his blood. Once he gets over that nap-a-day thing and gains some muscle, he’s going to be an even more invaluable component of Team Lee Lee.  Of course, by that point, he’ll want nothing to do with me, and no customers will want to buy his pent-up-aggressionified rock/movie star posters with matching black t-shirts.

Nah, I can’t picture it.  Henri’s not going to be that kind of teen…  Right?  Mom-Mom and H-Man 4-evuh.


Thursdays with Henri 2010/04/09

Filed under: great kid,rhetoric of a 2-year-old,start your cognitions — lee lee @ 7:10 pm

A few weeks ago, I documented what it’s like to be Henri for a day.  So, today, I decided to do the same thing–only through dialog.  Luckily, Henri didn’t let me down.  He had quite a lot to say.

  • Upon waking up:

H: You wanna play?

M: I’ve gotta get dressed, buddy.

H: You got dressed on your own in your closet on hangers and I got my closet next to a tree in my home a house.

  • At Breakfast

M: What are we going to do today?

H: Play. (pauses) And eat.

  • Going Down the Steps

H: There’s a guy in the curtain

M: What? I hope not!

H: My hope — yep.

  • After Nap:

H: My just a baby again. My cried about you.

M: That’s why you were crying?

H: Yep. My got sores. (rubs eyes)

M: You have sleepers?

H: Yep. They cut my eyes.

  • Late afternoon, after snack:

H: My want juice.

M: You need water, after that big poop you just had.

H: My want juice.

M: (thinks about whether she will give in or not)

H: It’s water in it.

M: Yeah!! That’s right!!! Good critical thinking, H!

H: And ANTS are in it TOO!


budding backseat driver 2009/08/10

driving-wise, today was not a good day.  the first USELESS “field trip” h-man and i went on was to the rmv in brockton, an hour away, only to get there and find out that 15,000 other losers had already signed up to be “heard” and there were no more slots left.  poop soup.

so, i decided not to waste the momentum of having henri in the car and in a pretty good mood and drove halfway across town, in traffic, to the library, searched for parking, found parking, etc. etc., only to get there and find out that the Library Does Not Open Until Noon on Mondays.  summer hours! who needs ’em!!  now, i’m never paying my $9.25 fine.

let me remind you that today was not a nice, cooler-than-usual, summer day.  it was 115 degrees if i’m white.  i assume that most 20-month-olds would not stand for such a waste of a morning (i, myself, wanted to shoot someone in the knee), but henri–darling, sweet, mellow, better-than-good henri–just sat in his seat and hummed, talked to himself, read books, notified me of trucks, and–every now and then–repeated the GPS, just to make sure mom-mom was listening:

GPS: Turn right on Hilltop Street.

Mom-mom: (Goes straight) (Swears)



1 year and counting 2008/11/24

Filed under: great kid,something to report — lee lee @ 8:44 pm

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.)