the underwear drawer

four weeks

I took Cal--I mean Mack (dang, keep doing that)--for his four week check at the Pediatrician's office today. He's not four weeks until tomorrow really, but who's counting, right? Barring any problems, I don't quite understand the purpose of a four week check other than weighing him, which made the forty minute limbo in the fomite waiting room filled with febrile, coughing toddlers all the more anxiety-provoking (yes, I know that we live with a preschooler, but these were not family germs, they were STRANGER GERMS), but I'll get over it.

The stats, for those interested (probably confined to grandparents, various relations, and other Baby People): Mack is now 11 pounds (on one hand, they weighed him with his diaper on, on the other hand, he hadn't eaten in almost two hours, so that probably evens out to about right), 22.5 inches, and his head circumference is...oh hell, I guess no one cares about head circumference. Either way, he is 75th percentile all across the board, which seems just perfect to me. And not until they told me that he had grown three inches since birth did I notice (I look at my kid, I swear, but sometimes it's hard to tell, he's scrunched up a lot of the time) that he had well outgrown his newborn footie pajamas, and in fact, could not extend his legs straight while wearing them. So we went home and I put him in these 3-6 month pajamas with monkeys printed on them, and they fit him just right and were delightful besides. I mean, really. MONKEYS.




(Full one month photo set here.)