Size, shots, and 3 AM terror.

Yesterday was Jim's six month appointment, and it went rather well. There was a little girl in the waiting room, maybe two years old. Or maybe one year old? Or three? I have no idea. I know nothing about children. Anyway, I think she was between one and three years old, but she was basically the exact same size as Jim, and he was extremely taken with her. He stared the entire time until we went back to the waiting room. I'm not sure if it's just because he rarely sees children or if he's planning on being the world's teeniest ladies' man.


Debonair.
Next step, of course, was getting the measurements.He's 15lb 15oz (~25th percentile), 26 inches long (~35th percentile), and has a 45 centimeter head (~85th percentile). Little baby, big head. The nurse actually measured his head at 49 centimeters originally, which is absurdly large. Upon entering the room, the doctor took one glance at Jim's head, said "THAT's not right." and trundled off to get his own tape measure. So Jim's head is officially 45 centimeters, which is still hilariously large but not freakishly so.

It always takes quite a long time before the doctor wanders into the exam room. Jim played with Noah's keys for a while; this ended when he decided to find the longest one and jam it into the back of his throat. He didn't mind, but we were concerned so we took it away. Then we looked at the children's books available. The best was a pop-up farm animals book - apparently some enterprising tot had gone to the trouble of ripping out all the pop-ups, so basically it was a book of headless sheep and cows accompanied by rhymes. Charming. Our entertainment options thus exhausted, we settled down to writing Farsi all over the paper doohickey that covers the table (Jim had already saturated most of it with drool, so I didn't feel that we were vandalizing much by making use of the few dry parts).

The exam itself was brief, as always. Yep, baby looks healthy. Yep, he's moving and smiling and so forth. Yep, he sleeps occasionally and is fed regularly. The doctor seemed more or less impressed by his athleticism, which is apparently rather advanced for his age. Then he left and the poor nurse came in to cheerfully administer some pain. Jim handled it very well, actually - only squeaked slightly for the first two shots, then howled for about four seconds for the next two, after which time the world was cheerful again. Poor dude's got a big bruise on one leg where the shots went in, though, and I think he was hurting a bit the rest of the day, because he was very clingy. We spent most of the day lounging around on the couch comfort nursing and watching wildlife documentaries on Netflix.

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One last unrelated bit: You know how Jim figured out how to pull up to standing recently? Well, we've been forgetting to lower his crib mattress. I mean, he can only pull up from sitting, right? And he can't sit up on his own yet, right? So it's not like it getting things lowered was that urgent, right? Right...


Yes, Jim, that's very cute. Sit the heck down.
Anyway, this morning he was fussing for his 3 am feed, so Noah went to get him, only to find him (yeah, you guessed right) standing up and leaning his entire upper body over the rail. It was basically sheer luck that Noah walked in just before he tipped over. Poor Noah wound up lowering the mattress in the middle of the night while I fed him.