5 Months, Huh? When Will I Be Old Enough To Vote? An Update by Harry

Notice I said Harry. Not Harry Bear and not Harry Pants. Maybe my Mom will get the hint. I may want to be called Harrison these days, since I am getting so old and distinguished. I really hope I get my words soon. I already know what my first sentence will be: "Mother, Father, it has recently come to my attention that there are far too many pictures on the Internet of me naked and splashing in my duck tub. If you continue to post such filth, I shall have to take drastic action. Seriously, my Parents Pants (how do you like it, Oldy Bears?), I know it is cute to hide my down theres with a clever camera angle, a precious plastic tub toy, or my own chubby tummy, but if you continue to document my baths, I shall be forced to seek shelter elsewhere. I noticed that my Uncle Maurice and Aunt Jen sent out pictures of Max in the bath tub, but he was COVERED BY A TOWEL. Perhaps they would like a permanent visit from their nephew Harrison."







What the heck was that? Do you think I am making an idle threat here, Mother? We'll discuss this later. Now, let's attend to the business at hand-- I am five moths old today! Whoo-hoo!


Wow. What a high-tech sign this month guys. Spending the big bucks for my 5 month b-day, huh?

Wow. Paper's not as heavy as it looks.

I wonder how it tastes...

Nope. No good. At least we know I don't have pica.

It's so bendy.

and foldy.

Cool stuff here, guys. Hope I don't get a paper cut.

Really fascinating, Wonder what else I can do with it.

Where's Harry?

Peekaboo, suckers, here I am! But wait! Where'd the paper go?

Here it is!


Oh. The sign again, huh? On the couch this time. Okay.

Do not tell me to sit pretty. I am not a dog. I am a man!

I really want to grab that thing again.

No, seriously, I do.

My patience is wearing thin here, Mom. I mean it. I am famished!

We get it already. I am cute.

I am five months old. You have made your point, my friend,


How many signs did you guys make? I thought I destroyed them all. Well, just let me get my hands on this one.

I do not like tummy time, Mother,

and you are no longer the boss of me when I am on my tummy. I'll just roll onto my back. Hah!

I feel as though I could reach that sign if only I could somehow make my arms and legs work in concert with each other. Perhaps I could rest my weight on my palms and knees and push my arms and legs forward...

No, that's ridiculous. Maybe if I cry my mom will move me-- now there's an idea!

Where's the sign?

You know what I said about tummy time...

Dear Blog Readers, I love being Harry's Mom,

and there's no "but" clause to follow that statement. Maybe I am feeling especially loving because Harry finally pooped and stopped grunting, or because Ben made the coffee extra strong this morning, or because Harry and I slept until 9 a.m. snuggled together in bed. Probably not the last one-- it wasn't as nice as it sounds, since Harry woke up at 5:20 very poopy and very mad about being so poopy in his sleep sack and stayed up until almost 7:30, eating so much in that time that he spit up all over me. Twice. Sometimes I think Harry might be part beagle-- just like Daisy, he'll eat until he bursts. Even though I smell like sour milk and catch a strong whiff of it every time I look down, and even though I have emptied the coffee pot, and even though Harry and I have to take a walk in the slush today, I am just so happy with my life and everything/ everyone in it. Sure, I have days where I feel very martyred and put-upon, where I think that I do everything a stay-at-home mom does AND everything a working mom does (which, just for the record, I do), but more often, I have days where I just feel so LUCKY. Harry is funny and adorable. I love my work, and the "life of the mind" is a good antidote to scrubbing toilets with a pumice stone (a top-notch household tip-- really gets rid of the scratches). Most importantly, I have the best husband in the world, and he is a wonderful father-- you should hear him sing Harry's stripper music when he changes a diaper, and you should see how hard he makes Harry laugh. I am constantly stealing his schtick and marevling at the fact that I found such a perfect person to spend the rest of my life with (shout out to SFI!). So, yeah. I am feeling pretty good about my existance on this rainy Fall day, and I just thought I'd share. Harry is so darn adorable, and he is finally starting to interact with his toys and his environment. I am so excited that we have Thanksgiving, Max's Christening, Sheryl's wedding, Chrismukkah, and New Year's Eve coming up because as much as I love to love and play with Harry, I love to watch him with his grandparents, great-grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles even more! Here're a few pics to hold you over until tomorrow's "I'm Five Months Old Today" post. Love, Sarah (a.k.a. "Mommy the Food").

My Baby Takes a Morning Nap-- to be sung to the tune of that Sheena Easton song, "Morning Train."

Random, I know. But Harry Pants woke up at 10:00, 1:00, 3:00, 5:00, and 6:30, so today's entry might be even more rnadom than usual. More random than the Cribs episode? Why, yes indeed. Thanks for asking.

Here are a few pcitures from the tournament yesterday. Perhaps life in the tab room messed up Harry's schedule (it's true that he didn't nap well, and the squeaks he made last night/ early this morning are usually the squeaks of a sleep deprived baby. You should hear the squeaks of a sleep deprived Mommy. And his poor sleep deprived Daddy drove his squeaky car to another speech tournament early this morning. Seriously, the white car shrieks like it's dying a slow death everytime we turn it on. Remember the '84 Honda that used to make that sound outside your window, Dan?). Anyway, as promised/threatened, I digress.

Harry and Karen getting to know each other.



Harry and his Daddy.



The happy family, blissfully unaware of the sleepless night that loomed before them.


Absolutely not napping



Dan and Karen refusing to take their job seriously. Or maybe they were making fun of Ben. Hard to tell.


Me noticing some serious earwax clumps in Harry's hairy ears.


Harry makes an adorable addition to any table, no?



Harry all bundled up to leave tabland and go to the grocery store, where he slept like an angel. If ony he could sleep like that at night...