Tad had his actual 4-month appointment on Tuesday. He weighed 13 pounds, 11 ounces and measured 24.25 inches. That's a growth of almost 2 pounds and 3/4 of an inch since last month. I think he's doing that thing where he alternates between gaining weight and gaining height.
Since I posted his four-month picture last week, here is a random picture of him wearing a penguin diaper:
It was actually a pretty good pediatrician appointment. They praised his incredible motor skills, commended our extended-rear-facing plans, didn't object to our delayed solids plan, and forgot to ask where he sleeps. (Which is good because I just went to Confession for lying about it...)
Of course, they didn't have any idea what I was talking about when I tried to explain his possible lip tie. (For example, "Can he stick out his tongue?" is not particularly relevant...) Fortunately, we have an appointment with somebody who actually specializes in such things later on in April. Prayers would be appreciated and all that.
The other day I saw a billboard that asked me whether I had an emergency preparedness plan. I told Scott about it and ended up giving this whole little speech about how having a plan isn't the important part. Having resources and skills is far more valuable in a crisis, because it enables you to adapt when things don't go according to plan.
Scott's very proud of me for breaking out of my Myers-Briggs mold.
(I'm INTJ and he's INTP. I'm pretty sure every argument we've ever had can be summed up by that one-letter difference.)
I was at the chiropractor on Wednesday and at one point she was holding Tad and handed him back to me with exaggerated reluctance. I said to him, "She can't keep you; she has enough kids of her own." Dr. D laughed and said that she loves her job because she gets to hold babies and then hand them right back. I still felt horribly awkward afterwards. Dr. D has three children, aged about 5, 4, and 2. While I'm sure they're quite enough to keep her busy, I feel like a bad evangelist for accidentally implying that three children is "enough." I guess I'll just have to keep associating with her until I have at least four children. (She's in my LLL group, so I'll see her even if I give up being chiropracted.)
Scott has had a cold this week. The first couple of days were very annoying, but then I enjoyed having him home the last couple of days. (He's been telecommuting.) Plus I enjoy sleeping in an extra hour and not having to scramble to get us all out the door in time for him to catch the bus.
The other day I didn't have much to buy at Kroger, so I went through the U-Scan and had the pleasure of bagging my own groceries. Seriously, having a bagger is not all it's cracked up to be. Last week I had ice cream and marshmallows and cans of tomato sauce all in the same bag. And raw meat NEVER EVER goes with anything else. Really, people.
Scott is probably the only one of my readers who will get this, but I am going to rant about it anyway.
During the most recent Agents of SHIELD episode, I kept yelling at the TV (well, the laptop), "This is where you all stuff cotton in your ears and tie your captain to the mast! Don't you all read!?" Obviously there would not have been much dramaz if the heroes had thought of that, but I am very disappointed.
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