Barnabas Monkeypants

Like my son, I’m a bit of an attention whore, and I enjoy it when people stop us and tell us how cute our baby is. (He is, you know.) Right after they say “Oh, what an adorable child”, they tell us “I have a 4-year-old at home” or “my daughter’s 6.”

Yeah, whatever, lady. That’s like you pulling up in a brand new BMW and me saying, “Yeah, well, you should check out my ’88 Taurus.” It just doesn’t work that way. Babies trump all other children, and there should be at least a 5-minute delay in talking about them when in the presence of an infant. If, as is likely, you’re gone before that 5 minutes arrives, well, tough. I guess I don’t have to hear about your kid after all.

(Does that sound harsh? I guess it is. And I apologize. I’m just protecting Henry, you know.)

So what else have we learned about the prince this week?

We learned that if you dress him up in overalls, a sweater, and animal print socks and prop him up in the corner of your couch, he’ll look like Marlon Brando. (Looking at this photo, I just keep imagining him thinking about putting a horse’s head in our bed. Either that or what exercise regimen he has to start so he can get rid of that big ol’ double chin.) I don’t think you can imagine how much Kristen and I laughed taking that picture.

We learned that he’s very happy to go to sleep all by himself, thank you very much. For the first month or so, we’d have to rock him for a few minutes before he fell asleep in your arms. This is a nice feeling, sure, but it’s also great that he can now do it on his own without our help. An example: the other morning, I was getting ready to feed Henry right before his nap. Well, just as I got myself situated, I realized I had to use the bathroom. No problem, right? So I put Henry down in his crib, did what my bladder was telling me I had to, and returned, only to see that he fell asleep. All by himself. Without a swaddling. Without a kiss on the forehead. Within the short time it took me to … well, you know. Of course, 45 minutes later, he woke up in a very bad mood seeing as how he had missed his second breakfast. But that’s not the point. The point is, now when we put him to bed, he (usually, most of the time, almost always) falls right asleep. What a guy.

We learned that Henry loves to pass gas. Loves it. When he has something sticking in his gut, he’ll squirm a bit, pucker his lips, and then let it go. Of course, then a big smile comes on his face and he’ll wave his arms and legs around. The toots are loud. Really loud. Luckily, they’re not smelly. (Now his poop on the other hand… I remember someone telling me that breast-fed babies’ poop didn’t smell that bad. That person is certifiably insane.)

We learned that we don’t know enough kids songs. I’m trying to remember some of the ones my mother used to sing me 35-odd years ago, but all I’ve come up with is “I Know an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly” (a morbid tale, I know, but I love to sing “wriggled and jiggled and tickled inside her”). So I’ll sing that at least once every time I play with Henry. (Along with “Stairway to Heaven”, “Lola”, and “You’re the One That I Want” from Grease, of course.) Kristen’s stand-by is “Rubber Ducky” from Sesame Street. We have some really good children’s albums, but they’re all new songs, ones in which I don’t know the words. Just another thing for me to brush up on.

We learned that as much as he loves staring at the ceiling fan or door frame or pillow, he loves to look at us, and he’ll follow us as we move around. The other day, Kristen and I were standing over him, and I was making silly faces (as one is wont to do when in the presence of a youngster). Henry got this worried look on his face, turned to Kristen, and, if he could talk, would’ve said, “What is God’s name is daddy doing?” Of course, then he turned back to me and smiled.

I love him so, so, so much.

This entry was posted on Thursday, October 9th, 2008 at 12:01 pm and is filed under What We've Learned. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.