Henry continues to amuse us with his insights and his interesting ways of expressing himself.  He’s developing an awareness of emotions (”Are you mad, mama?” “Not mad, honey, just irritated that you spit water on the floor.” “Well, I’m mad at you!”  “Why?” “Because you put me in time out.”  “Well, then, I am mad at you.”  “Well, I’m mad at you!”  “I’m mad at you!”  As you can see, I’m doing my best to help him recognize and understand and work through his (and my) emotions.)

The most recent exchange happened a few days ago when Floyd and I were having another one of our discussions about discipline.  After Floyd asked Henry to do something and Henry conveniently ignored him and ran off to fill his dump truck with rocks or some similar activity, Floyd sighed and said, “That’s one of the drawbacks to raising a toddler.  They never listen.”  I responded with my usual hoo-ha about consequences and called Henry over to us.  Here is the exchange that followed:

Me: Henry, what happens when you don’t listen to mama?

Henry: I go to time out.

Me: And what happens when you don’t listen to daddy?

Henry (with a look of deep and complete perplexity): I don’t know.  (Then his face suddenly lights up with a look of deep and complete wisdom) I be crazy!

From the mouths of babes.

During these last few weeks, we (all of us, but especially Henry) enjoyed two visits - the first from our friends BJ and Ann Hymes and their three children Eva, Jonah, and Elena, and the second from Floyd’s Uncle Dave and Aunt Chloe.

The Hymes family actually stayed with Ann’s sister in Loveland, but they all came down to Boulder and checked out our parks and creek.

Henry was very impressed with Eva, who took charge of the group of older boys who run wild at our apartment complex.

Floyd, Henry and I made our way to Loveland to celebrate what turned out to be a very wet 4th of July with the Hymes and their very welcoming family.  One of our favorite moments was our little jaunt to the neighborhood boat launch and pier.  The lake was, hmm, a little rough.

But the bad weather didn’t interfere with the festivities.

Dave and Chloe stayed with us for five days, and they were wonderful guests.  Henry still asks me to sing the “Tumbkin” song that Chloe sang to him in the car.  We kept them fairly busy, I think, and a highlight of the visit was a walk along the St. Vrain trail.

Henry has a new-found fascination with ants.  While some of us are looking at the stars, others are more interested in crawly things.

And of course, a hike with Henry isn’t a hike if he doesn’t take off at a sprint along a trail that skirts a 50-foot drop-off that bottoms out at a rocky creek.

What’s a day with Henry without a little adventure.

Caution:  I may have gone way overboard on the photos for this post; so much so that even the grandparents will get halfway through and say, “Enough already.”

Though the middle of May doesn’t count as summer, a trip to Florida in the middle of May does, especially when you are leaving behind a snowstorm!  Henry and I left Floyd with his boots and winter coat in Boulder to go visit Aya and Papa and their new pool.  Mark and Marky made it a long weekend and drove down on Thursday night, too.  Henry spent most of his time ecstatic with wild glee.  I mean, he spent most of his time playing in the pool and the water with his cousin, imitating everything he said and did, except for walking on water:

Papa kept a close eye on everyone

while my brother managed to create monster waves despite his wrecked knee (which is being operated on as I type this!).

Henry also had as much fun or more at the beach, even though he was a little tentative about the water at first

However, with a little (a lot) of help from Aya, Henry soon became a little waterbug

His favorite activity was playing in the sand: digging with Marky,

running,

and jumping.

Despite a few mishaps at the ocean (both Mark and I lost our sunglasses in the surf), it was possibly our most favorite activity.

We managed to have lots of fun when not in the pool or the sea.  Henry loved his Aya time, especially reading with her.

And a visit with Uncle Mark and Marky wouldn’t be complete without a wrestling match.

It was sad to spend only two days with Mark and Marky, but it was a great preview of the fun we’ll have in August when everyone congregates on Oak Island for a week at the shore.

Things finally started warming up in Boulder by the time we got back, and now the weather is gorgeous.  Last weekend we took a drive up to the Rocky Mountain National Park where we saw a lot of elk and went for a hike on Deer Mountain.  Sometimes it’s difficult to get Henry motivated to keep walking; he’d much prefer to sit and explore the one square foot around himself for twenty minutes or so.  But we found two great motivators.  1) sticks

and 2) treat flowers.  Treat flowers are fruit treats that “grow” like flowers on the trail.  Somehow, when Mama goes ahead a hundred yards or so, she always manages to spot a treat flower

and she calls to Henry to come find it.

Here is Henry showing off his discovery, half-masticated

And don’t ask me what these two are doing here.  I was just trying to get a photo of the snow-capped mountain in the background

As for recent developments, we’ve hit a milestone: pee-pee in the potty!  Henry has only gone pee-pee in the potty three times so far (well more like 20 times since every time he goes, he likes to repeat the ritual over and over again:  pee-pee (which starts to dwindle to a few drops), then an ecstatic “pee-pee in the potty dance” that must involve both Daddy and Mama, then dump the pee-pee in the big potty (which usually just ends up on his hands, the bath mat, the floor, etc.)), but he is thrilled both with his newfound skill and training pants, so I’m hoping he’ll be fully trained by the end of summer.

He is also making his first jokes, which he does with song.  For some reason, he finds the following lyric substitutions riotously funny: “This old man, he played mommy!”  and “This old man, he played one, he played nick-nack on my FOOT!”

Finally, he’s figuring out either charm or manipulation.  It’s hard to tell the difference.  Sometimes, I’ll retreat to the bedroom and close the door to get some work done or clothes folded.  After a minute, Henry will ask Floyd, and Floyd will tell him that I’m working in the bedroom.  Usually Henry will whine and bang on the door to be let in.  The other day, though, after being told that I was working and he couldn’t come in, he thought for a minute and said, “But I want to kiss mommy.”  Of course, the door immediately swung open so I could claim my kisses, clever fellow.  The trick wears thin though, and yesterday, after he said, “But I want to kiss mommy,” Floyd answered by telling him that he could kiss me when I come out.  Henry thought for a second and then said, “But I want to hug mama.”  I’m going to need to watch this one.

So in honor of summer, I’ll post a final photo of Henry in his favorite costume, despite a 90 degree day.

means snow in May.  Who knew?  While it always melts as soon as the sun comes up, I have to say that I’m not particularly thrilled to see it.  Consequently, all images from the past couple of months are solely of sunny, warm beautiful days, and we’ll pretend that snow in May never happens.

Henry is quickly approaching two and a half, and with growing older comes an increasing sense of self-awareness, and for Henry, that also means an interest in his appearance.  He likes to choose his own clothes now, and the combinations he can come up with are quite interesting.  He also likes to tell people that he’s wearing an “outfit.”  His interest in clothing means a renewed interest in his dragon costume from Halloween, which he loves to don.  He’ll then romp about in front of the mirror:

not really caring that he’s outgrown that particular dragon by about six months.  He’s also interested in things like belts and necklaces

though the idea of wearing necklaces and clothing together seems to elude him.  Note that this photo was taken just days before a haircut.  I have to say, I miss his 70s locks.

He also has a new sleeping costume that he particularly likes.  He calls it “mama’s skirt” because it is, well, mama’s skirt.  It’s my teal stretch cotton jersey skirt, and he likes to wrap himself up in it when its time to nap or sleep.  Here he is, post nap

This year marked Henry’s first visit to the Easter Bunny, whom he really dug, even though the photo looks like he’s ready to either vomit or faint:

He also participated in his first Easter egg hunt.  It was a small hunt with older friends from the compound, and I have to say that they were all very sweet about leaving the “obvious” eggs for Henry.  Here’s the crew (note: Henry, the diva, refused to pose for the group photo.  He was too interested in playing with his twisty bendy bunny):

From top left moving clockwise, we have Eliza, Ariman, Doris, Elena, Liam, Isaac, and Ailish. Henry quickly picked up on the purpose of an Easter egg hunt, and didn’t at all mind trading bootie when trading meant reaching into someone else’s basket and taking their candy.

Henry’s diet these days is simultaneously widening and narrowing.  He refuses anything that appears to be a combination of food (soups, stews, stir fries, etc.) and he’ll say yes to anything that’s oversized:

No comments on the “outfit,” please.  Remember, Henry is picking out his own clothes these days.  Well, I may have actually put together this ensemble, but now I’ve got a wonderful excuse anytime Henry looks whackadoo.

We’re also exploring more of the mountains now that the weather is warmer.  Here’s Henry playing around Boulder Canyon Trail:

Just beyond the edge of the path is a lovely creek with a sandy beach.  Can’t wait until it warms up.  We have a favorite spot on Canyon Boulder Path.  A little nook on the sunny side of a large bouldering rock.  Floyd and Henry once went there and built a little “rock mama.”  Now, when we go there, we say we’re going to visit rock mama.

The other day, we went to another one of Henry’s favorite places to play and dig and explore and discover: Chatauqua Mountain.  We never go very far up the mountain, as Henry manages to find something fascinating every 13 inches.  He also insists on petting every single dog that comes within 100 feet of him.  Damn all these friendly dogs in Boulder!  I often resort to just plopping him into his backpack and hiking up a few hundred feet for a change of scenery.  This scene: Henry sitting on a rock eating cherries:

This scene, Henry trying to make a friend.

The little girl may have been freaked out by the cherry juice around Henry’s mouth, which made him look like he was rabidly eating live squirrels.  Henry is very interested in others these days.  Whenever he sees ANYONE, he asks, “Who’s that?”  And I say, “I don’t know.  Why don’t we ask him/her his/her name?”  And Henry will get as close as he dares and asks, “What’s your name?” Always fun when it turns out we’ve just engaged a crazy person in conversation.

Henry tends to go down the hill a bit better than going up the hill.  The only problem is that he gets some momentum going and he can’t stop.  So people walking up the hill sees this little blond nutjob running down the hill shouting in panic.  I’ve tried catching him and stopping him and showing him how to slow himself down a number of times, but he just starts off running and shouting in panic again.  I think he enjoys it.  Like how some people go to horror movies.

Finally, a photo from music and movement class, which Henry really enjoys.  Here he is shaking his shaker to one of my new all-time favorites, “I’m Going to Kentucky.”

We’re taking off for a week at Aya and Papa’s house in a few days, so stay tuned for some family photos with Uncle Mark and Marky.  And sunshine!  And the new pool!

It’s been a long couple of months, and I really don’t want to talk about it here.  Our loss of Marilyn Sue — Henry’s Grammie Sue — is documented on the We Miss You Grammie Sue website. Instead, I want to focus on what the last couple of months have been like with Henry.

Henry’s language skills have exploded, though you would never know it by 97% of his daily verbal output, which oscillates between “I want it!” and “I need it!” He is actually capable of long, complex sentences, though his capability for long, complex thoughts is, well, negligible at this point (i.e. see above favorite expressions).

With heightened language skills comes some wackadoo communications.  The other morning I went into his bedroom to get him out of his crib, and he was quiet and thoughtful.  He looked up at me with these eyes that reminded me of a primordial bird, and his expression didn’t change at all through my cooing and backrubbing and smiling.  Finally, he said to me all deadpan, “Don’t take my head off.”  I said, “Henry, I would never take your head off, and anyway, I can’t.  Your head can’t come off.  No one’s head can come off.”  He looked at me suspiciously and asked, “What about that girl?”  “What girl?”  “That girl?” “Henry, did you have a dream?” “Yeah.”  “Was it scary?” “Yeah.”  “It wasn’t real.  When we dream, it’s just our imagination, and none of it is real.  No one can take your head off, okay?” “Okay.”  “Can I give you a hug?” “Mama hug.”

Hank is also really into rules these days.  The other day he was feeding me pretzels, and just before he was about to hand me a second one, he said, “One at a time, mama.”  He also reminds me to cover my mouth when I cough, and when I tell him he can’t have another vitamin until tomorrow, he responds, “One per customer.”

His grasp of discipline is now (gasp!) reasonable. He finally understands cause and effect, though maybe not in a way that’s very flattering to me.  First, often when I get frustrated with him, I mutter under my breath, “Henry, I’m going to throw you out the window.”  Second, one of my pet peeves is that when I changed his diaper, it usually resulted in a wrestling match.  LOTS of kicking, which was frustrating and painful!  Once I lost my temper and popped his bottom.  Not enough to hurt, but enough to get his attention.  Which it did.  He was aghast, shocked, insulted and hurt.  For the next ten minutes, all he would say to me was, “You hit myself!”  I apologized for losing my temper and told him that I popped his bottom for kicking mommy, and that it hurt.

A few days later, he was wild and kicking me again during a diaper change, and I said, “Henry, stop kicking mama!”  And he said, “Or you pop my butt?”  And I said, “No, I’m not going to pop your butt.”  He nodded sagely and said, “You throw me out the window.”  Time to watch what comes out of my mouth.

On the positive side of disciple, he understands choices, chances, counting and time out.  He understands the choice of either reading one book or two books before bedtime; the fact that he had two chances to pick up his mittens and that he has one more chance before a time out; and that he has to the count of three to pick up the apple he threw on the floor.  I do believe we’ll be able to get this boy civilized yet.

His passions these days are dancing (which often involves running back and forth with crazy hand movements), especially when daddy plays guitar, singing (Wheels on the Bus and Old McDonald are his favorites, but he’s also making up a lot of his own songs), Karate poses (SO sad I don’t have a photo of one yet), and “working,” which involves taking screwdrivers or rachets to his toys, furniture, or appliances and “fixing” things.

His other passion is flooding the bathroom with water from the sink, but really, can that count as a passion?

So enough blither blather.  Here’s a chronological rundown of the last couple of months in pictures, because, come on, aren’t you really just zooming through the text to get to the pictures?  Here goes:

Floyd on skis for the first time.

He loves it, can’t wait to do it again, and thought he might have given himself a minor concussion the first time.  I said no more skiing until he gets himself some health insurance.

A warm January day in the town of Lyons, home of Oskar Blues and the largest pinball collection in the state AND an old firetruck.

Have I mentioned that Henry is obsessed with firetrucks?

A get-together with the McAndrews turned into a jam session, with Henry jamming himself onto Amanda’s lap and refusing to budge:

We took a trip to the Denver Children’s Museum one afternoon when it was FREEZING.  Henry loved it, especially the old-fashioned general store:

The fishing pond:

The firetruck:

And the arts & crafts room:

My mom came and stayed with us for eleven days while Floyd was in Houston, but he also had the camera so unfortunately I don’t have any photographic record of Henry’s time with Aya.  However, Henry will mention, unprompted and several times a day, “Aya says boom-de-yay!”  So glad he got so much out of the visit.

While we didn’t take many photos at all when we went to Missouri and Wichita for Marilyn Sue’s services, I did manage to snap a couple of lovey shots with Henry’s Aunt Gina and Henry’s Grandpa Michael:

Finally, to end on a couple of random shots.  If Henry’s career as a mechanic or construction worker doesn’t take off, he’s been practicing an alternate career as an underwear model:

And last but not least, I wanted to demonstrate the evolution of Henry’s table manners.  Here he is eating dinner at 11 months old:

Here he is eating dinner at 2 years, 3 months:

We’ve come so far.

We flew to Houston to see Floyd’s family on Christmas day, but we managed to work in a few festivities in Colorado before we went.  One warm evening we went to ZooLights at the Denver Zoo.  Henry rode a train and a carousel and, while most of the animals were sleeping, he did manage to get an eyeful of the giraffes and elephants, which were even more captivating than the zoo mascot who bid us goodnight.

We also went to a birthday party - Henry’s second - to celebrate his friend Ali’s 2nd birthday on Christmas eve.  It was wonderful to have fun with good friends and good food, even if it wasn’t Christmas related.

The next day, we arrived in Houston to a warm home, a tasty dinner, and lots of presents under the tree for Henry.  It was great to see Sierra, who is months away from becoming a teenager.

I can’t believe this is the 7-year old I met five years ago, though it’s hard to be certain if it really is her or an alien impersonator who feeds on the electric impulses emitted by Facebook and an Ipod.

The big hits were some Krinkle blocks from Grammie Sue, a monster truck from Michael, and - Henry’s favorite by far - a metal old-fashioned firetruck with pedals that his Grammie Sue gave him.

He’ll be the most popular kid on the block come springtime, I imagine.  He did get one toy that didn’t please him as much as we thought it would.  Michael gave Henry a toy replica of Raoul, one of the characters from the Cars movie, Henry’s favorite flick.

Henry’s Raoul is battery-operated, and when you shake him, he revs his motor, says a few words, and then shoots across the floor.  It seems Henry likes his inanimate objects to stay inanimate.  When we take Raoul out, he yells, “No, no, no, no, no!  Raoul GIT YOU!!”

The next day we drove to the shore, and while it was much chillier than we hoped, we still managed to get down to the beach:

and to the heated pool.  Sierra was the only one hearty enough to brave the hot tub (it was way too hot for Henry and me), and was able to hang out in the 50 degree air for minutes after getting out without getting cold.

Henry, on the other hand, preferred to be wrapped up once he got out of the water.

The condo we stayed at was very posh, with balconies on three sides and gorgeous views of the ocean, town and canal.  Henry’s favorite amenity was the loft bed, which he treated as his own private jungle gym.  His other favorite amenity is his Aunt Gina, and when he had the two together, it was pure toddler heaven.

We also managed a trip to the aquarium, which was very cool.  Henry even slowed down here and there to watch the seals and the sharks the and penguins and the fish.

When we got back to Houston, Floyd took me out for a night on the town.  We started at a sweet little bar with an elephant-sized, buffalo-horned, mirror-mosaic armadillo out front.

The place was called, appropriately enough, the Armadillo Palace.  After the band there finished, Floyd and I ended up at a little dive honky-tonk about half a mile from Sue’s house called Blanco’s.  Lots of Stetsons and cowboy boots.  When Floyd stepped away to get us some Lone Star beers, a nice cowboy came over and asked me to dance.  It was my first two-step, and I think I managed it pretty well.

We celebrated New Year’s at home, not wanting to risk the roads of Houston on such a crazy night (and gathering from the state of the patrons driving away from Blanco’s, it would have been a dangerous night, too).  Henry did his best to stay up to meet the new year, but gave up the fight at 11:30.

We toasted the New Year with champagne and Lone Stars and tamales, and managed festive time despite Henry’s lack of participation.

So goodbye 2009

and hello 2010!

It happened.  Henry turned two, though we played it very cool until after the flight back from Florida.  We went to my parents’ new home in Ormond Beach for Thanksgiving and Henry’s birthday, and while he wasn’t quite two when we flew out there, he was when we flew back, and since we booked the flight with Henry as a lap child, we didn’t want him blurting out, “I’m two!” to any airline staff.  But now if you ask him how old he is, he’ll say “I’m two (or five or three, depending on the day and his mood)” and accompany it with hand motions that resemble finger spelling but are really just his attempts at getting his index and middle fingers to stay up while he curls all the others down.  The flight to Florida was on the tail of an October trip that Floyd and Henry took to Wichita and we’re on deck for a Christmas flight to Houston, and I’m beginning to think that maybe we should start collecting miles on this kid, especially now that we’re paying for his seat.

So I thought I’d get a few photos in of both trips before the Christmas trip.  That way, we wouldn’t be all holiday heavy in the next post.  So first up, the trip to Wichita:

It was a trip to visit family, namely Grammie Sue, Aunt Gina, SiSi, and Michael.  As I said it before, there’s no denying that Henry and Sies belong to each other:

Not only do they look like two peas, they both have the same startled expression.  The star of Henry’s world, however, had to be his Aunt Gina, whom Floyd and I hear about on a daily basis:

A highlight of the visit was a road trip to Missouri to see some of Floyd’s uncles and aunts and cousins.  From left to right: Uncle Dave, SiSi, Floyd, Gina, Henry, Grammie Sue, Michelle, Cohen, Clay and Baby Holden.

I was sad that I couldn’t go, but I did manage to participate.  Henry was fussing on the long car ride home from Missouri, so I talked and sung to him on the phone for a while, which resulted in this:

He was happy to return to Wichita, though, and resume exploring Grammie Sue’s new house, especially the backyard and all the surprised there:

Now a brief whirlwind (worldwind) tour of the Florida trip:

Aya and Henry at the beach:

Henry and Papa after dinner:

Henry at his birthday party (we were really, really bummed that Mark and Cheryl and Marky and Garrett couldn’t make it):

Henry at the car show (this is his how he looks with his eyes as opposed to his hands.  When I tell him, “Just look, Henry, no touching,” he immediately goes into his scrutinizing crouch):

Henry and Mama at the fort at St. Augustine, where we all watched a cool canon demonstration (though the best part of the day was the cool little outdoor bar mom and Wil took us to).  I don’t know if Henry made the connection between this fort and the daily forts we build him at home out of a purple sheet and two chairs, but he’ll figure it out one day.:

Daddy convincing Henry that the ocean was just fine:

Henry convinced the sand was finer:

And when we got home, picked up at the airport by the fabulous McAndrew family, there was a Mr. Potato Head waiting for Henry, which he immediately became obsessed with, especially one of Mr. Potato Head’s accessories.  Can you guess which one?

Finally, the stuff that’s been coming out of Henry’s mouth lately has been hilarious.  It’s verbal evidence of the sense he’s making of the world.  The other day, he hit me and I lost my temper and yelled at him.  Afterward, I apologized for yelling and explained that hitting made mommy grumpy.  The next day, he hit again, so I put him in his crib for time out.  Whenever he has time out, we always have the following conversation:

“Why are you in timeout, Henry?

“Hit mama.”

“Is that naughty?”

“It’s naughty.”

“Are you sorry?”

“Sorry.”

This time when I went to go get him, I asked him, as usual, “Why are you in timeout, Henry.”  He thought about it this time and after a minute of serious contemplation he said, “Mama’s grumpy.”  So he’s already learning how to shirk responsibility.  And to assign it.

When it’s Floyd’s turn to be “on” with Henry and I’m still around (I usually am at school or doing laundry or running errands or something), I tell him, “Ask daddy.  Daddy’s in charge,” when he comes to me for something.  The other day he woke up rather early and I took him into bed with us.  It was Floyd’s morning to wake up with Henry so when Henry started asking for milk, I told him, “Daddy will get you your milk.  Ask daddy.”  In response he crawled on top of me, straddled my stomach and proclaimed, “Mommy’s in charge!”

Oh well.  I guess I’ll take that as a compliment.

So instead of writing an extremely long blog catching up on everything that I’ve not written about in the last two months, I think my strategy will be to try and post a few short blogs that can maybe recap what we’ve missed in the last two months.  I’ll start with Halloween.

Grammie Sue bought Henry a dragon outfit, but for weeks before Halloween, Henry would have nothing to do with it.  When I showed it to him, he ran over to it, grabbed it and flung it as far away as he could.  So the morning of Halloween, I didn’t even try, but instead dressed Henry in his back-up oufit (Jewel Thief) and took him to the Family Housing party:

Henry cared little about anything at the party other than a blue lollipop and jumping off the stacked mats with his friend Hunter.  I call that a successful party!

After the party, Henry and I took advantage of the beautiful day and went to the farmer’s market.  Floyd came out to meet us, and we spent the rest of the morning by the park’s amphitheater where Henry entertained himself with a large stick for at least 30 minutes

and made friends with a young couple eating their lunch in the sun.  He’s turning into quite the sociable charmer.

The weather for Halloween and for the next two weeks has been stunning.  Big, blue sky days and temperatures in the high 60s, low 70s, but two days before Halloween we had this:

Schizophrenic weather here in Boulder, but it’s hard to mind two feet of snow when two days later it’s all melted and the sun is shining down on you while you lounge on your patio in short sleeves and bare feet.  Henry loves the snow now that he’s used to his snow pants and snow boots and mittens.  He actually loved his snow pants and snow boots from the beginning, but the mittens were a hard sell.  Henry insisted on playing in the snow with bare hands a couple of times until he realized that rushing inside screeching about the cold wasn’t the way to enjoy the winter in Colorado.  Now he loves his mittens, too, and asks for them.  Smart baby.  I knew he’d figure it out.

When it came time to trick-or-treating at night, Floyd had more fortitude than I and finally convinced Henry to try on his dragon costume.  Once he was in it, he loved it!  We got lots of roars and dragon poses out of him!

Henry went out with Floyd and our friend Amanda and Amanda’s kids Liam (the son of dracula) and Ailish (the candy corn queen).

While most of Henry’s treats were consumed by me and Floyd (in a few hours it seems like), Henry has a new and intense appreciation for lollipops and smarties, and he knows that I often keep a dum dum in the front pocket of my backpack, so every chance he gets, he pilfers around in there.

He’s getting to be a little bit mischievous with his quickly developing fine motor skills and steel trap mind.  Other new developments include a nuanced understanding of the word “no” (as in when he says it to mommy and daddy, not the other way around), weird little pretend games that I’m not involved in (one included pretending to pull something off a footbridge in the downtown pedestrian mall and running 30 feet away to “plant” it in the ground.  he did this repeatedly for 10 minutes or so), blaming his poop on his pet bear, the phrase “Henry do it,” a penchant for wearing the color orange, an obsession with “Wheels on the Bus” and singing almost all the words to “ABCs,” ” Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” and, of course, “Wheels on the Bus.” What DOES the driver say?

Hanky is starting to get a grip on the language.  Two word exclamations are his specialty.   A couple of weeks ago, he watched in amazement as his daddy hoisted his mama aloft and held her there.  He quickly decided this would not do and shouted, “Mama!  Get down!”  A week or so later, he took a hike up Anemone Trail with his daddy, and was delighted to find the mountain teeming with chipmunks, lizards, and zippy little woodpeckers.   So taken was he by the woodpeckers, in fact, that he was desperate for a closer look.   And so he demanded, at the top of his little voice, that they (like Mama before them) immediately “Get Down!”.   He didn’t seem to be terribly shaken by the fact that they did not heed his command, even after they heard it many, many times.

Birds fly, and so does Henry.  Jumping from the end table onto the couch a few days ago,  he informed us that “Henny fly!”.  The bathtub is now known as “Henny pool”.  And earlier this evening, he put himself to sleep playing with a red bicycle tail-light clipped to a little plastic figurine, which contraption he referred to affectionately as “light boy”.  Lest you harbor any doubts that light-boy actually exists (and many do), here is a short video: Light Boy

School has started, and Henry, Floyd and I have our routine down.  Floyd has Henry on my school days - Tuesdays, Thursdays and Friday afternoons.  I have Henry on Mondays, Wednesdays and Friday mornings.  On the weekends, we try to plan an outing or two, though sometimes we end up just hanging around the house and playing with the others kids at the playground.  Henry went through a short-lived phase (I hope it’s short-lived!) of being a bit aggressive with other kids, tackling and pushing.  He was also hitting Mama a lot when he was frustrated, but a few time-outs and some serious talks seems to have put an end to it, at least for the last few days.  He’s been playing nicely with the other kids his age and actually stroking my hair and face saying “nice Mama.”  When I go get him from time-out, he says “Sorry.”  And when I ask him why he’s sorry, he says, “Mama hit.”  So he knows…and he’s learning.  Especially manners.

I can’t think of a better way for him to let me know how much he enjoyed the meal I prepared for him (okay, so it was the leftovers of a fudgesicle, but I’ll take my appreciation where I can find it).

AND he’s talking a blue streak, parroting everything we say, so we need to watch our mouths.  He was into “big” the other day, saying “big, big bus” and “big, big truck” and “big, big house.”  Then Floyd got him to say “Big, big, Mama.”  That didn’t go over too well.

He’s also been climbing everything he can get a leg up on, including Mama:

In fact, Henry’s been into Mama A LOT these days.  No separation anxiety or anything, just very cuddly and snuggly with Mama.  I love it.  Here he is getting cozy with me and his favorite skirt:

He’s also entertaining himself a lot more these days.  One of his favorite things to play with is a bowl of water on the porch.

And things really get crazy when you throw in a potty and Mama’s basil plant.

Yep, nothing like sitting on a potty and ripping leaves off a basil plant to throw into a blue bowl of water.  As for actually potty training…Henry certainly likes to pee, but not actually in or on the potty.  We’re working on it, but he STILL could care less if he’s been sitting in a load for 20 minutes.  Crazy baby.

Floyd and I biked with Henry to the Boulder Reservoir the other day.  An 11-mile round trip up and down constant hills in blazing heat.  It was a blast.  And we’ve been so spoiled by the beautiful pristine waters of the creek and the gorgeous mountains, that we just expected the same crystal clear water and luscious scenery at the reservoir.  Instead we got water that smelled vaguely of goose  and a huge stretch of beach without shade.  Still we made the best of it:

We also attempted to hike in Chautauqua Park twice in the last few weeks, but each time we arrived, the sky immediately clouded over and rained us out.  There’s been a few bear sightings up there, so maybe ole Mother Nature was trying to tell us to keep that precious yummy morsel of a boy out of bear’s reach.  It was still pretty impressive despite the (or maybe because of the) impending storm.

Another Saturday we went to the Farmer’s Market in Boulder Central Park, and across the street a dance group was having an improvisational dance celebration.  Henry loved it, and wiggled it with the best of them.

But Henry’s favorite outing remains the pool, where he wears himself out wading and floating and scooting and jumping and scooting about on his belly.  Then he comes home to nap like a champ:

However, the pool is now closed, the afternoons are getting shorter, there’s been a couple of days with a distinct chill in the air.  We’ll see what Boulder has to offer us in the fall, and whether or not we can actually go it without buying a car.  In the meantime, we’ve made some great friends here, Amanda and Sean, and they’re going to babysit Henry this upcoming weekend so Floyd and I can have our first date in Boulder since we’ve unpacked!

Henry doesn’t mind.  He knows that at the end of the day, he’ll always have his Mama.

Well, maybe not a mountain…yet.  He has climbed the Red Rock trail at Settlers’ Park.  And by climb I mean that he gets carried sometimes by his daddy:

hauled about a bit by his mommy in his Tough Traveler Baby Backpack (made in Schenectady, NY!):

and uses his own little legs to carry himself up:

You can see a video of his climb here:

Video of Hank Climbing

And, uhm, that isn’t all cellulite!  I swear!  My legs are just pixelated.  Grr.

We also took him to Chautauqua Park this past weekend (pictures to come), and we found that the best incentive to get him up the trail is to get a dog in front of him.  The best way to stop him in his tracks is to sprinkle about a few bugs or a creek that needs investigating.  He does manage to cover a lot of ground himself considering those short little legs he has, and he manages up much better than down.  I’m hoping that in a couple years, hiking up a mountain will seem like second nature to him.

And of course we have more creek pictures.  That baby loves himself some creek:

While we’re focused on capitalizing on the natural resources here in Boulder, the city itself has a lot to offer all of us.  Floyd and I can ride our bikes to any sort of shopping - groceries, macy’s, bed, bath and beyond, thrift stores, electronics, hardware, boutiques, cool cafes, wine, salons, barbers, shoes, everything - and with the bike trailer, we can bring home quite a haul.   There’s a farmer’s market right on the bike trail, and lots of free outdoor music.

For Henry, the downtown area has a pedestrian mall with a fountain that Henry likes to play in:

And the gorgeous public library has a huge children’s section where we go to story time.  And Henry loves the pool.  But even better than the city resources are the University’s.  We live in a Family Housing apartment complex, and in addition to being surrounded by other parents and children Henry’s age all playing in the big field and playgrounds just steps from our door, Family Housing hosts great events.  Last week we went to Water Days, which included kiddie pools and a water slide and snacks:

On Friday, we went to a potluck dinner that was followed by an outdoor screening of Wall-E.  Henry was amazing.  He went sweetly back and forth from our blanket to the table fetching chips and lemonade, and was social with all the other children.  He went with Ailish, who’s ten, for popcorn and sat under her blanket with her during the movie.  He only lasted about 20 minutes before he had to go inside and go to bed, but it was such an idyllic evening, just hanging out with other parents and children, eating, chatting, watching a movie.  This is what parenting should be like!

Family Housing also hosts a Music and Movement class for toddlers, and we went for the first time on Monday.  Henry loved it, but it was also a little more sitting still than he’s used to.  He got frustrated that he couldn’t grab the instruments out of the bin and whacked Hunter (16 months) who was passing by at the wrong moment.  We had to go outside for a little time out, but after that he chilled out.  Henry’s also getting to know the other kids and knows two names - Hunter and Kenny (3 years who lived across the way).  Tonight, Kenny was upset that he lost his soccer ball when he came home and he was crying.  Henry was very empathetic and said for a long time after he came home, “Kenny cry.  Kenny cry.”

He’s putting together words to make sentences and phrases now and is using modifiers.  “No more, Daddy.”  “Cold toes.”  “More crackers.”  “Bye bye, pool.”  “More, please.”  “All done.”  He gets frustrated sometimes, though, and resorts to this really irritating high-pitched whining, and we have to constantly remind him to use his words or to show us what he wants.

He also went through this big hitting phase, and no amount of time outs or reprimands was stopping it.  So we changed tactics.  Whenever he he gets ready to hit (or hits before we can catch him), we tell him to hit the floor or the pillow or the couch or the chair or the wall, but don’t hit mommy or anyone.  A poet friend gave me this idea and it really works!  I’m still not crazy about his urge to hit, but I’m much happier seeing him run over to the sofa or bed and whacking those instead of a person.

Finally, all the fun in the sun and in the water has made Henry VERY resistant to bed and nap time.  He really needs his sleep, but he fights it so hard to the point that he can get himself worked up and a little out of control.  We found that a little extra milk helps to calm him down, as does letting him play with some toys in his crib, but bed time can really drag on and on, and I’m hoping he becomes friends with sleep again soon.  And I’ll end with what Henry says when he IS ready to go to sleep:  “Night, night, bye, bye.”