Due to my procrastination, and our pediatrician being out of the office for a week or two, we didn’t get a six month check up after his seven month anniversary. And that appointment happened yesterday, so at least I didn’t procrastinate about this post. Here we go.
Weight: 15 pounds, 8 oz (up from 13 pounds, 15 oz mid-December)
Height: 26 inches (was 25 inches)
Still in the 15-20th percentile. Still tiny, still following the curve, still hitting all of his milestones.
SO EXCITING, RIGHT?!
But then, much like what happened during our gender ultrasound, there was a big but. We were all joking around, the doctor was listening to Little Dude’s heart, and then his face went serious. And he didn’t say anything. And he kept listening. And didn’t say anything. And then…”I don’t want to worry you, this is normal, haven’t heard it before now, really shallow, blah blah blah”. Apparently the kid has a tiny heart murmur and I’m trying to obey the “don’t worry about it”. So that’s all I’m going to say about it. Not even gonna Google that shit.
HAPPY BABY: He loves jumping in that crazy jumperoo thing, “talking” to the dog, crawling towards the dog or the dog toys, when the dog runs at him, basically anything to do with the dog. Or cat. He loves everything with a tail. He digs bananas and pears but will tolerate almost any other puree. His favorite toy is this Fisher Price camera. Which is the first toy he whined for after we took it away. But it belonged to someone else, so we made a mental note to buy it. But we didn’t have to, as unbeknownst, my parents bought it for him for Christmas. Problem solved.
SAD BABY: This kid hates to be moisturized. And dressed. If he could be dry, flaky and naked he would love life, apparently. TOO BAD, YOU SCALY BEAST. He has a few patches of eczema that were mostly cleared up with hydro-cortisone but still require a multiple daily slatherings of lotion. He also hates the process of falling asleep. And peas. He hates peas. Not that I can blame him, those %^@# things smell like feet.
DUMB BABY: He puts everything in his mouth. Except food.
SMART BABY: He doesn’t get fooled by the throw-a-towel-over-his-head “where’s baby?” game. He recognizes his name. He chatters, but it’s more like hooting so to beat it to death we also call him “Hooter McGavin” and that just seems wrong.
I guess that’s it? He’s nailing everything so he’s pretty good at this baby thing. What a life.