I’ve spent the better part of my blog writing about my first born son, Davey. It’s not unusual once you consider that he is the reason for the start of the blog. This morning, though, I woke up feeling a tad bit guilty that I haven’t really allowed my second born, Henry, to grace the words of my writing. Why is that? Perhaps it’s that he is so young and for the first couple of months he’s more like a blob, a phrase I’ve stolen from Angelina Jolie when she spoke of her first born, Shiloh. I thought she was heartless when she said those words, but having become a mom myself, I understand just how right she was. For the first couple of months, they don’t have much of a personality. They eat, sleep, poop, and cry. That’s it. But those days have long since passed with Henry. The boy will be 8 months old in a couple of weeks and I can’t help but wonder why I haven’t shared more of my adventures with him. Here’s the answer I came up with…I DON’T KNOW.
My Henry is the happiest baby I’ve ever met. He constantly has a smile on his face and doesn’t mind sharing that with the strangers of the world. I compare him a lot to Davey and how he was at that age, which may be a “no no”, but I like to see just how different they really are. He has two teeth, a lot faster than Davey did. He started crawling at 6 months and immediately began standing as well. He has a bottomless pit for a stomach, as I’ve had him on solids for a while now. And he sleeps! He actually puts himself to sleep without being rocked. I have him on the same nap schedule as Davey. So many said it would never happen.
Here’s the big difference between my two boys and the one thing that makes Henry so exhausting. He’s Mischief with a capital M. This child isn’t happy unless he’s terrorizing Davey, either by tearing apart something that he’s built or not allowing him to watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse in peace. He loves the toilet and dog bowls, things Davey never bothered. He chews on furniture, shoes, and basically anything he can get his hands on, including any part of my body. He was actually trying to chew on my shins the other day.
I suppose the one thing that really sticks out, the one thing that is the most annoying habit of little Henry is his incessant need to try to climb baby gates! I put those gates up for Davey when he was about this age and not once did he ever try to touch the gates, chew them, sniff them, kick them, or climb them. It’s almost as if they were an electric fence of sorts and he never went near them. Henry? All of the above items I listed which Davey NEVER did, Henry does. It’s exhausting.
On the plus side, he’s keeping me on my toes which in turn is keeping me on my weight loss track. I wouldn’t want a docile baby. Where is the fun in that?
Please note the carnage of the Davey’s train tracks in the floor along with the demolition of his pieces of artwork all at the hands of Henry in the picture below. Sigh. My little one man demolition or basically any other pre-toddling 8 month old. Happy Wednesday.