Twelve Month Check-Up

Well, all bets are off.  Steve wins.  I lose. 

I have to start letting go.

Brigid and I went in to the pediatrician's office today for her next round of vaccinations plus flu shot, and everything that Steve has wanted to try with the baby, that I've told him she's not ready for?  Apparently, she is ready.  And she's been ready.  And I am very, very uptight.

Steve was shocked by this revelation.

Anyway, forward facing carseat?  She's ready.  No bottles, only sippy cups?  She's ready.  Whole milk instead of formula?  She's ready.  Egg whites, shellfish, and peanut butter (things we've avoided as significant allergens so far...)?  Oh yeah, she's ready.

I'm not ready, but apparently, that doesn't count.  Whatever.

Beyond the doctor laughing at me for being ridiculously anti-change, the appointment itself kind of sucked.  Brigid basically started screaming the moment the nurse pulled out the stethoscope to listen to her heartbeat, and she didn't really stop until I got her back home and put her down for a nap.  Throw in the exorcist baby moment we faced while Brigid was getting her shots, and it was not a pleasant afternoon.  Also, I seem to have re-tweaked the back muscle I pulled last weekend* while wrestling a pissed-off baby into her carseat.

Steve is sooooo on the hook for the fifteen month check-up because I don't think I can handle this again!

Key measurements?  Length of 30 and 1/2 inches (90th percentile!!!), weight of 22lbs 14oz (70th percentile), head circumference of 46 1/2cm (85th percentile).  So some of the baby fat seems to be wearing off, and she is definitely stretching out.  She's becoming a toddler, I guess. 

Boo.


*Did I mention that I pulled a muscle in my back last weekend?  Did I mention that I pulled it getting dressed?  In my defense, it involved knee high, pull-on boots, which can be difficult to deal with, but still...  

Hellooooooo thirty!  Thanks for playing!