Fit Like a Fiddle

Graham had his long-awaited 2 month appointment today, and he's, in the doctor's overused terms, 'solid'.

Significant to the last post claiming his bigness, since October 15 he grew 2.5 inches, gained 4.25 lbs, and added 4cm to his head circumference. Where he was in the 65 to 75 percentile in height & weight last time, he's now a 'solid' 90th percentile.

Here's what Graham doesn't like: shots. He arrived at the office asleep, and started crying when we got him naked. Right when the doctor walked in, he was a flirty angel. All nice and everything. He stayed that way after he left, and gave the nurse with the needles a little goo goo. Then she stuck three needles into his thighs and he went into tomato mode. He turned red from the top of his head to the base of his tummy like a thermometer on a hot day. The crying didn't really stop until about 25 minutes ago, so we're talking about almost 6 hours of cranky.

He's fine now. We're cooking dinner while he's on the table in his car seat with the hiccups. For all intents and purposes, outside of the screaming we'll hear when we tear off his band-aids, he's unphased.

By the way, the doctor in the photo is not me, it's the real doctor. We have a couple friends who take their kids there too, and all of us get the same 'solid' keyword to describe our healthy children. Solid.