Uninteresting Update

Harry's nine month appointment was last week. He has really grown a lot -- blowing out of the percentiles (18th for weight, 75th for length, 50th for head circumference) he had been in since he was a month old. As of last Thursday, he weighed in at 21 pounds 6 ounces (which was Ps guess on the nose -- impressive), which is the 62nd percentile. And he was 29.75 inches long (85th percentile) with a head in the 95th percentile (I don't think they told us the measurement). Oddly, though he does feel a lot heavier, I would not have guessed that his head had grown that much.

There's honestly not a lot new with us. Harry continues to try to crawl with no real success. he has been on hands and knees for over two months. This week he seems to have perfected lifting one arm without toppling while on hands and knees. He also loves standing and has mastered the one-arm hold. He doesn't do much step-taking, though. He is capable of pulling to stand but has yet to realize that he can do it whenever and wherever he wants. Perhaps if he realizes he can take steps and cruise, it will become more appealing. For now, he just yells until you offer fingers for him to use to pull up. To be honest, he yells a lot these days. Not crying. Not whining. Yelling. Very. Loud. Yelling.

There were layoffs at Ps work, but P was unaffected (though, sadly, Miss M's -- Harry's daycare provider -- husband was not so fortunate). Miss M is on vacation right now, so Harry has been at backup daycare at my office. He has not been drinking his bottles (he usually takes 18 ounces during 9 hours of daycare; they got him to take 6 ounces on Wednesday and 6 on Thursday, though I ended up going down to nurse on Thursday post-lunch so he wouldn't end up hungry and dehydrated) or napping well. It has not affected his mood much, but it stresses me out anyway. And the poor napping has left him overtired, giving him a hard time falling asleep at night, playing for a lot longer than usual before drifting off, adding to the sleep deficit.

My work is about the same. Plugging away. Trying to get enough work and make a positive name for myself in order to avoid what I can only assume will be another round of "performance-based terminations" in the late fall/early winter.

Lacking anything further to say, I offer a picture of Harry -- one of my favorites, as I think his bedhead look is cute:

Nine Months

Dear Harry,

I can't believe how quickly you are growing up. Your ninth month was remarkable in large part because of how unremarkable it was. You didn't really learn anything new -- you just kept on doing the things you've been doing. Generally speaking, you nap well, you eat well, you sleep well. You have a lot to say, but none of it is at all word-like, or even proto-word-like. Some of the time (okay, much of the time), I'm convinced you are communicating with the dog.
You don't crawl or army crawl or scoot on your bottom, but you do get around, mostly by pushing with your arms while on your belly or on your hands and knees, going in reverse. You then want to see something to one side or another, so you push yourself in a circle with your arms, and then you push backwards in a new direction. You roll on your right shoulder (yes, always the right, so you don't make any real progress), back and forth, making sure you know what is above you too. But you can't seem ever to move to where you want to be, always moving instead further and further away. I can't imagine how frustrating that must be.

You also love to stand. Mostly holding on to fingers, but you have also discovered that the activity table can be fun. So long as someone is there to catch you if you topple. Thankfully for us, you have not figured out that you can move your feet and go places while standing, so for now you enjoy the view and work on bouncing up and down. Always a good time. Your dad and I fear the day when you figure out you can really get around on your own. (We are a bit delinquent on our baby-proofing.)


You got your third tooth this month, and all of a sudden the biting stopped. Thank you! Apparently, your third tooth was the cause of three months of biting. I'm sorry teething is so tough for you, at least with respect to the top teeth. I hope the fourth, which seems very close to the surface, is less painful -- for your sake and mine.

Your second Red Sox game was more fun for everyone involved. We all got to see most of the game -- and you even took a nap in Daddy's arms. Everyone kept telling us that their own kids/grandkids/nieces and nephews would not have behaved nearly so well. The only time you fussed or cried was when you hit yourself in the face, which wouldn't have made you cry except that you were very tired. Within three minutes you had fallen asleep.

For new foods, we introduced you to apricots, blueberries, watermelon, and kiwi. You loved them all -- especially blueberries, since you can feed them to yourself easily. On that note, you've become quite skilled with finger foods. Over the course of the month, you went from picking things up with your fist and failing to get them into your mouth to picking things up with your fingers and putting them in your fist and using the other hand to get them into your mouth to picking things up with your fingers or your fist and actually getting them in there. You have also started really chewing, which is very strange to us. So we've been giving you a lot more for you to self-feed. We told Miss M she could do the same and let you try soft foods if the other kids were having them, but she took some liberties with that invitation. We asked her to limit it to foods you had tried before. She decided to start with french fries. Needless to say, we learned that you like both potatoes and fried food.


You're a wonderful little boy, Harry. No longer a baby, but really a little boy. I am so lucky to have you in my life.

Love,

Mommy

Reune, or uniting again

Inspired by Dr. Grumbles post, I decided to post, since it has been a while.

My college reunion was this weekend. It was good to see friends and catch up. (It was also wonderful to see a fellow blogger classmate.) There's definitely something a little odd about reunions, though. You keep having these moments in which you realize that you are having the same stale conversation over and over again, and that at some point you had ceased paying attention to anything the other person was saying. You know your own answers to the totally predictable questions (this is my husband P, we still live here, big law stooge, Harry), and you ask the same predictable questions in return, and you have the same stock responses to the answers given by the other participant in the conversation. Eventually, you realize you haven't heard a word the other person said, but they didn't even notice, because some part of your brain is still functioning on some strange sort of autopilot while the conscious part has drifted off and begun contemplating the surreal nature of the experience of participating in a conversation while not really being mentally present.* As the two parts of your mind start to come together again, you want to share your experience with the other person but you realize that you would then have to admit that you weren't paying attention to what they were saying. And, well, it's one thing unintentionally not to listen to someone else, but it's another thing entirely to own up to it. So you let them remain ignorant and instead tell the next person you talk to before you get into the routine banter. You then wonder if you could have had that conversation without your conscious mind participating, in a very meta way. (Or maybe it's just me.)

But it's not like that with everyone. Just some people. There were a lot of people I was excited to see and catch up with and whose goings-on were things I wanted to learn more about and as to whom when I said 'let's catch up soon' I actually meant it. But my class was large, and I knew, at least tangentially, quite a lot of people. And, to be fair, if we were that close, we would probably have kept in touch better and they might already have known that the man with me was P and that we still live here, where I lawyer, with our son Harry. Or at least have seen it on Facebook.

At our last reunion, little enough time had passed that it felt like we had been away for the summer, so now we had to fill one another in on what we had been up to. Some people were married, many to people they were dating in college. Some people were in grad school. One or two had kids and/or a career (as opposed to a job, which was what most people had). This time, it was different. People were doctors with specialties and areas of expertise and/or had more than one child and/or had sold the business they started out of college to a multinational corporation and/or had moved overseas to work in a developing country. And others had done none of those things and were just enjoying dancing and drinking, like it had been summer and no time had passed at all. And we all said "I'll talk to you soon" when what most of us meant was "I'll see you in five years." Then we all went back to what we do when we aren't doing that.

*I think that non-conscious part of my mind could in fact pass the Turing Test, and I can't decide if that makes sense or is totally weird. Thinking about it now, it reminds me a bit of what Adam Sandler's character did in Click when he skipped ahead. But less weird.