As the doc plotted her weight onto the chart, he muttered a big "wow". Much like our precious The Tobe, our Aimee Whatchu Wanna Do is literally off the charts. Considerably more than 2 standard devitations to the right. So, Immense Baby Duebber Number Two is apparently eating just fine.
Of course, as I picked up her little naked baby self off the baby scale, she peed all over my shirt. I'm very fortunate that I was able to set her down before she wet more than just the shirt. Needless to say, I bought a very nice clearance polo shirt at Target on my way from the doc's office to my office. It's a lovely shirt. Really.
Poor girl continues to have thrush (along with her poor mama) and some sort of reflux. So, drugs drugs drugs. Getting her started early, you know.
I hope the reflux issue can be resolved, though. She's spitting up alot. She's frequently in what I would call a state of visual discomfort, usually followed by bodily function noises. So, she's hurting. And it's all messy. And it affects her pretty much constantly, which affects Robyn (and me, although definitely more Robyn). And I just want to bond with her, but it's hard to bond with a screaming wailing pooping spitting machine, regardless of how cute she may be.
Is it possible that she's gonna be a redhead? (I know, I know... a picture would be helpful...) It looks that way right now, although it could certainly look otherwise by tonight. But you better believe I'll be visiting this web site if the hair stays red, cause I'll doubt my paternity, and I ain't payin' for no kid that ain't mine...
1 comment:
that picture is amazing.
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