Focused

One of the most fascinating things about having a baby in the house is watching his little brain develop. Henry has reached that stage where you can almost see those little wheels turning as he observes and interacts with the world around him. Those jerky, uncoordinated newborn movements have been replaced with a laser focus and smooth deliberateness. I love to watch him hone in on something, reaching out with his chubby little arm and grasping with his tiny fingers.

For me, this is where things start to really get fun. Most, if not all, of the newborn stress has worn off. I’m getting a little bit more sleep. We’re stretching out an extra hour or two between feedings. I’m not off-duty by any means, but the moments when I feel like I can actually relax come a little more often these days. The newborn fog has lifted.

These days, when Henry’s not rolling around on the floor and exploring, he loves to spend time in his exer-saucer, working out his leg muscles and taking in the view of the world around him from a bit higher perspective. We’ve dubbed it “The Poop Chair” (for reasons I’m sure you can figure out without further explanation), and it cracks me up to see Henry sitting in it, playing with all the toys, and spinning himself suddenly around like Dr. Evil from the Austin Powers movies when one of us makes a noise or something catches his attention. It’s become his favorite perch to watch Stevie and Cadence and I play cards, or to keep an eye on me while I’m cooking dinner.

And sometimes he’s content to just hang out and study his toys and stretch as far as his chubby little legs will let him to see if he can get just one little bite.