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Today I spread out Henry's brand spanking new (and totally rock and roll; thanks Emily!) zebra striped fleece blanket on our living room carpet. I plopped Henry down in the middle of it, threw some toys down around him, and then chilled out while he sat and entertained himself. In case you're wondering, the toy nearest and dearest to his heart these days is a cell phone that Megan gave him. The phone has been a suitable replacement for all of our remotes. This means that the volume no longer goes all the way up and then all the way down, and the channel never mysteriously switches to channel 999 or 333 (thankfully, he never punched in 666; that would have been pretty creepy). Anyway, he's very good about sitting on his own, and does so with great confidence in his ability, leaning over and grabbing toys and then pulling himself back upright like he's been doing it all his life. However, because even Neil Diamond hits a bad note every once in a while, he became so engrossed with his cell phone that he toppled over onto his side and landed with a great, floor-shaking thump. He was stunned into silence for a few seconds then broke out into a completely distressed cry. I picked him up and walked around with him until he calmed down, then I sat down next to his blanket and settled him back amongst his toys. He sniffled a few times and then do you know what he did? He turned towards me and held out his arms for me to pick him back up. Me! To pick him up! I don't think I've ever felt more needed ever in my entire life.