Another Day.

Another day.

 Another walk.

  Another hat.

Unfortunately the size of one Henry Denbrook's head is making most of his hats a little too snug, so a shopping we must go. Maybe that's not an unfortunately.

Nine Months

We call this the "stink" face, or the "turd" face because well this sweet baby boy is becoming a rambunctious turd who we whole heartedly adore. On one occasion when Henry was displaying his stink face, someone said it made him look like a Hank. So there ya go, Grandpa Duman- when he his being sweet people call him Henry and when he's being a turd, he's a Hank! I know you would have loved both sides of him.

Yah for pots and pans!

Henry had his nine month well-baby check and his first pediatrician visit in good old Wyoming. Everything went well and we are pleased with our new provider, although we desperately miss our old pediatrician. Should you live in Eugene, I have the best doctor for you. If you don't live in Eugene and have wee ones, move there.

So, all ya'll who keep saying Henry is huge are wrong! This babe is smack dab in the 50th% for both weight and height. Okay so his head is in in the 75th. Maybe when people say, "my oh my what a big boy you have" they really are talking about this kid's melon. Bulging with brains, I suppose.

See the TV back there? It is Hank's personal mission to pull it down onto himself.

At nine months, Henry is very much a mama's boy. He loves his mama so much in fact that he likes to feed her his food. This has made me very aware of what I am giving him to eat. I can't say that I'll be mixing applesauce with carrots again anytime soon. He is pulling up on everything and cruising around his play table and the couch like a pro.

The boy is fun.

I'm pretty convinced that there is nothing more fun than a baby boy.

All dressed up and nowhere to go.

So what does one do when for once everyone gets up on time, showers, does their hair, puts on clothes that aren't lying in a heap on the floor and goes to church only to find that no one is there? Why you take a picture in front of your new home that badly needs a power washing.

Foot-long...who wants a foot-long?

 This morning  our family found ourselves celebrating the Fur Trade Rendezvous Era. And, why yes, it is one of the largest mountain man gatherings in our nation and happens to be only a few miles from our house.  It was quite a celebration and gathering of people dressed in primitive garb. There were primitive demonstrations, authentic trinkets for sale (trinkets meaning bows and arrows and the like), Native American dancing, and the real reason we were there: fried food. 

People are allowed to camp on site if they meet all of the primitive guidelines. And yes, I used that large golf umbrella to shade myself and the pale babe from the relentless sun. And no, it does not meet the primitive guidelines. If you look closely there is a man behind me in authentic clothing.

Henry taking it all in.

That there is a foot-long corndog (hello, deliciousness!) which Henry is about to burn his hands on...didn't think that one through. Sorry buddy.

After learning that those who come dressed head to toe in mountain man garb get in free, we have decided to go authentic next year. Won't you join us?

A message from the H man.

Crawl? Me? No way, man! How about I flex as hard as I can and then when I don't magically move, I'll scream and and scream and scream. How bout I just move right onto walking. In fact, if I could just borrow two of your fingers, I'd be happy to walk around the house all day long. If not, I'll just cruise along the couch. Watch out, I'm going to be a big boy before you know it!

Up Where There Ain't No Air...

Jake has new teacher orientation tomorrow. It feels like we have been waiting for this day forever. Or maybe it's only been three years. Bring on that paycheck, baby. Bring it on.

While we had closed our books for family adventures this summer  up in Jackson, Jake still had a little something up his sleeve. And by a little something, I mean he wanted to climb to the top of Utah's tallest mountain. Now don't worry, it was only 13,528 feet. Children's play, really. And yes, he did ask me if it was okay if he left me and the child alone at home while he attempted this solo venture out into the wild. He took advantage of my hesitation in answering the question and before I knew it, we were buying Cliff bars and dried fruit for his 30 miles out and back adventure. And while his pictures are glorious and I was a bit jealous of his accomplishment there is no way my sea-level and very out of shape lungs would have ever made it to the top.

Cool as a cucumber at the top of King's Peak...never mind the 700 foot drop off behind him.

And now some amazing panoramas. It's true, this kid can shoot.

Anderson Pass

Gunshy (unofficial name) Lake

Gunsight Pass

King's Peak Summit

And now it's all about the work. Work, work, work!