Oh my, sweet little 5 pound 12 oz, 36 week baby, how I wanted to nurse you! I made breast feeding a goal of mine. I planned on doing a whole year of EBF (exclusively breast feeding). Everyone told me, a first time (read: clueless) mom how much better breast milk is. Well, you wanted a lot of it. Every two hours, around the clock. After a month, I waved my white flag and introduced formula. By 12 weeks, I was entirely done with breastfeeding. I stopped and became much happier for it. You didn't mind either way - you eagerly sucked down whatever was given to you at what ever temperature it was delivered at in whatever bottle was placed in your mouth!
|The day we brought Henry home from the hospital|
By 6 months you had soared up the charts. Despite being a month early, you had spouted to the 90th percentile for height. You basically ate your way to the top! You were a chunk too, hitting the 80 percentile for weight. So much for that little peanut I gave birth to, you quickly became the big boy your genes determined you to be!
|"Ma! More milk! Stat!"|
We had some health challenges along the way. You had severe torticollis from being breech and you needed a year of physical therapy. Even at two, you still get a tilt in your neck when you don't feel good. (Specifically, when you're about to puke. I'm actually a huge fan of this warning sign, as I've caught it every time and got you to a place where it's easy to clean up!) We faithfully went to PT twice a week for a year, and got you a helmet (with a sweet dragon on it!) to reshape the flat spot on the back of your head. The plan was to have you in that helmet for 12 weeks. But since you were too busy doing things your way (and growing so fast!) you only lasted 9 weeks in it. You still have a nearly indistinguishable flat spot on your head, but your thick blonde hair covers it right up.
I'm envious of your hair, sweet boy. No mama should be envious of her son's hair. But you got some amazing hair genes, and they didn't come from me! Outside of the color, of course.
You developed an infatuation with balls early. From the time you could sit up, you were throwing balls to the dogs. When your daddy would travel and we would have long, long days together, our oldest dog Baxter would help me out by bringing you the ball when you'd hit your "witching hour" in the late afternoons. I could sit on the couch with a glass of wine and you two would play fetch for at least a half hour. You loved it! In fact, your first word was puppy. I loved it too. It was just enough of a break for me during those long 96 hour shifts I'd pull as a single married mommy.
You were the last baby in my mom group to start walking at 15 months. I was worried we would have to return to physical therapy, but right as I was about to make an appointment for a consultation, you walked! This wasn't the first time you hit a milestone right as I was about to schedule a specialist for you. You refused to feed yourself until 12 months. Now, I can't get you to stop! You never really crawled, but you sure loved to scoot all over the place! You just love to do things when YOU want to do them, at your own pace and on your own schedule.
Now at two, I have no worries about you or your development! You talk more than any other two year old I know and just learned how to say, "I love you mama." It melts my heart! You kiss daddy and me on the lips goodnight. You dribble a basketball for HOURS and we just got you your first hoop - soon I'll be registering you to play on a team I'm sure! If basketball comes on the TV, you stop what you're doing and scream, "Ball ball! Ball ball!" and start wildly clapping your hands. You're currently the height of an average four year old, so this basketball love of yours was a good choice.
|Dressing like dad at the pumpkin patch Henry!|
You are a sweet soul, Henry. You've adored your little brother since the day he was born. When I pick you up from preschool, the first thing you do is kiss his feet! You're such a helper with him too, bringing me burp cloths and diapers and throwing away any trash for me when I'm busy with him. You bring him toys and pat him on the back. If he starts to cry, you look at him and say, "No cry, Otto! No crying!" While you can't say your own name yet, Otto was one of your first distinguishable and well pronounced words.
|2 year old reading Henry!|
Your favorite food is cheese and crackers and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Your favorite things are basketball, the dogs and your brother. Playing outside is your favorite past time. You'd rather pour out the bubble solution than actually blow bubbles with it. You love to mimic whatever I'm doing, whether that's cooking, dancing or sitting in an adult's chair. Everyday you get more and more fun as your personality develops more and more. I love you sweet boy! Happy 2nd birthday Henry.