Oh Henry!

Why no, I am not referring to the candy bar. Seen here:

Though, I have admit, the way Wikipedia describes it (peanuts, caramel, and fudge covered in chocolate), the candy bar leaves me drooling. The actual Henry that I'm talking about doesn't make me drool. In fact, he's the one doing the drooling. Most likely. Probably. Maybe. Well, I don't really know. I have never seen him drool, but he most likely does. Okay, probably does. Whatever, you get what I'm trying to say.

Actually, on September 26, 2011 (the day after my godson's 2nd birthday in fact), my very first nephew was born. Henry Downing saw his first light at about 2 in the morning (it was friggin' early, forgive me for not remembering the details) and weighed about as much as a baby whale. Oh Henry, I'm just kidding. Henry did pull down an impressive 9 and some change pounds. We've all decided to let Henry have the title of heaviest baby of our acquaintance and not even try to top him. Thanks for the challenge, but no thanks.

Mom and Dad (my own Mom and Dad, not Henry's. That would be weird if I called them "Mom" and "Dad".) got to see the little tike (yeah, yeah, I know, Henry's not exactly little) the day of birth. Proof:

I don't know what their grandparent names are yet. Which kind of stinks on my part, I know. I think I'm still in denial about not being able to have a say in that. Stupid older brother having the first baby. Geesh. Poor Daddy was super tired after the labor-fest. I called about 9 the next morning and woke him up. I kind of felt sorry for him. Then I remembered that he actually got to see the baby that day while I had to go to work and that pretty much killed the guilt. Sorry Pops.

THEN, MARLA. got to see him. Same day. Really. Here:

I think he looks like a snuggle bunny in this one with Marla, but even more so in this one:

Sunngle bunny? Ewok? You decide. Oh HENRY!

Matt and I got to go down and see Henry in real life the Saturday after he was born (he was born on a Monday). We only stayed about four seconds because we were both exhausted, but that extra two hour car ride was worth it. That kid is precious.

Matt isn't too sure about babies these days. I think he got scared when he spent a block in the OB/GYN department at the hospital. Or maybe it was when I went on a baby clothes shopping spree. Or maybe it was my little comment about the day (far far away) when he and I have a baby. Though, I think with Matt's genes, it may be a baby bear. I mean, look at all that hair.

Henry and his Aunt T! Face it, "Tara" is hard to say for a kid. I mean, I couldn't pronounce it properly until I was about 12. How could I expect a little baby to? I couldn't. So I gave myself a name. I also like to think that it reflects my ethnic background. What?

There. I couldn't have a post about Henry without showing you the whole fam. There's Henry's daddy and mommy. I would tell you their names, but that is a little too much information for the world to see on this public blog.

Oh Henry, one more thing. Aren't you glad that your name isn't really O Henry. I mean, you could end up looking like this:

Ten points to the first person who can tell me who O. Henry was. Negative ten points for looking him up on Wiki - which is what I did to get his picture.

One more thing! A video. Here - turn your sound up!: