Height: 26.75 inches (90th percentile)
Weight: 21 lbs 9.5 oz (above the 95th percentile)
Head circumference: 17.25 inches (90th percentile)
Shots: one in her right thigh and one in her left thigh (she whine-cried for about five seconds, then promptly shut up once I picked her up)
Development: mostly pretty average, very good at interacting with people, very interested in surroundings... not at all interested in rolling over (she is, however, capable of doing so; I saw her do it once on Monday)
Comments from the pediatrician: "She is always so bright-eyed and intent!"
Diaper size: 4
Shirt size: 12 month (snug) to 2T (somewhat loose)
Pants size: 9 month
Sock size: 18-36 month
Cuteness factor: ludicrously cute
She will also be starting fluoride drops every day since there isn't any fluoride in the water here. And we like pearly white teeth around here.
Oh, and since the doctor's noticed Amelia wheezing on more than one occasion (as have we), we are trying an albuterol inhaler until Monday to see if it helps. The idea is to deal with the wheezing now before she'd need a steroid inhaler, because those have some not so pleasant side effects for kids. The wheezing is probably completely unrelated to Amelia's fussiness. I also asked it she was wheezing because she's so fat. The answer is no. Bum.
Speaking of which, I have to confess I like Amelia's naked baby bum. I always thought it was weird when my dad would tell my bum used to fit in his hand. But now I understand. Baby bums are cute.
Amelia has continued to be regularly fussy. For all of you who were telling me a month and a half ago that she's teething... there are no teeth in that little mouth of hers yet. And things that are supposed to numb the gums don't seem to help. Nor do any traditional teething pain remedies. Oh well.
I assume most, if not all, of you have been following Amelia's progress on Facebook. But in case you haven't been, she underwent a slew a tests, all of which were normal. Lots and lots of blood tests... some stool tests... and a head ultrasound.
So, the only thing left to try, I've decided, is chiropractic adjustment. (The idea is, a baby might get a pinched nerve during a traumatic birth or something. And I don't know if birth was traumatic for Amelia per se, but at the very least her entire head was a giant bruise when she came out. It's possible.) I'd been putting it off, because our insurance doesn't cover a lot of the chiropractors in town, including many of the ones that are good with babies.
But! One of our friends (who also has a baby about six months old) has a dad who is a chiropractor... and he'll adjust her weekly for free for anywhere from six weeks to three months. Also exciting for me? He just happens to be a preferred provider for our insurance, so I can get adjusted too. Woo!
The bad news... Dr. Clifton is fifty minutes away. I should remind you that Amelia has made her feelings about car rides abundantly clear: car rides are akin to torture.
Well, we made the journey on Monday. By the time we got there, I was a wreck. You try driving that long with a screaming baby. Now don't get lost or killed. I did take a wrong turn somewhere too. And, as if that wasn't stressful enough, somehow I ended up with a horn-happy truck behind me who'd honk angrily anytime I braked at all. Not exactly sure how I ticked the driver off so much, but clearly, I did.
We made it, and the chiropractor adjusted a few places for Amelia. Her legs now appear to be the same length, whereas it at first seemed her left leg was shorter.
My adjustment was much more of a process. They took an x-ray of my neck. It is bending the wrong way. "Wow. You DO need to be adjusted," was the doctor's comment. And so I was adjusted in about a gerjillion places. I am suddenly sleeping better, and I don't have any headaches or other aches. Magic. Yes, I do indeed think there should be more chiropractic adjustments in my life.
I'm not sure what to tell you about how Amelia's been since her adjustment. Here are my observations, though. For one, she hasn't cried during any car rides. This is highly unusual. She has had some major crying spells, but besides one exception, those seemed to have obvious causes... like being really, really tired... or really, really bored. There has also been a slight increase in good naps. I was also surprised at how her shots today seemed to be no big deal. (A little deal, yes, but only worth crying about for a few seconds, apparently.)
So, at least for a little while, Amelia and I will be travelling to Lebanon every Monday to see the chiropractor. I'm pretty sure I'll at least benefit from it, even if Amelia doesn't. And she does seem to like the staff. While I was being adjusted, she perfectly happy "helping" the receptionists.
Anyway, I've also been wanting to do another "a day in the life" post, but I'm not sure I have enough time tonight. Instead, I guess, I'll write a letter to Amelia about what she is like now.
Dear Amelia,
I do believe you are developing a sense of humor... and the capacity to giggle. You think it's funny when I make exaggerated chewing sounds, and when I pretend to eat your belly. I don't think you're ticklish. You enjoy sticking your tongue out. Your favorite sounds to make are spit gurgles and raspberries.
One of my favorite things is your face first thing in the morning. Although I admit I dread when you open your eyes because I'd usually like to sleep another four or five hours, I find that my heart melts when I see you twist your head up to see if I'm awake yet. I usually pretend I'm still asleep. You wiggle and wiggle and wiggle impatiently. And when I finally open my eyes, you immediately flash your biggest grin.
I do my best to entertain you all day while dad is at school and while Auntie Beek is at work, but I think you get bored with me pretty quickly. I often find that when I am unable to console, your dad will waltz on in from a long day at work, and you will be just tickled pink to see him. You really like to play with dad. I sometimes think I must be boring.
But perhaps I'm not all that boring. I think you might be the most fun for me after you've gotten bored with dad in the evenings. I'll take you back, and you are all full of grins. This is the time of day when I am most likely to get some giggles out of you. Your giggles are the best, particularly after a long day of mostly just screams.
Sometimes at night you make it way too hot for a blanket. It's okay, though. You're a pretty good cuddle buddy. You somehow push both of us across the bed at least a foot during the night. I think this happens because I move over a few inches when you're done nursing in the night. And then I wake up to find you snug up against me, bobbing for nipples.
We are getting kind of good at communicating. You've gotten into the habit of leaving your mouth wide, wide open if you're hungry. Sometimes you will try to suck on my cheeks or my chin when you're hungry. Or sometimes, you try to latch on through my shirt. You are never successful.
Yesterday you sat up unsupported for nearly three minutes. You only sit up when you are in the mood to do so, though. It's fairly often that we will try to sit you up, but you lock your legs and refuse to do anything but stand. You also seem to enjoy being held upside down. Strange child.
You are terrified of the blender. Also the popcorn popper. You cling to me when those make noise. And, if you're asleep, you scream yourself awake like you just had a nightmare of mechanical horrors.
You do not like diapers. I caught you yesterday morning with your diaper half-off, and this morning I found you scratching at it. You much prefer to use the potty. I don't blame you. You also seem to dislike clothing. I have discovered that it is far easier and far less traumatic to wrap you in a blanket when going outside than to try and strap you into a sweater or coat.
You like going to storytime at the library. Not only do you enjoy the songs, I think you particularly like to watch all the toddlers be exciting. It also seems that, among strangers, kids are your biggest fans. Today while we were at the pharmacy, some little girls came up and told me how cute you were. They danced for you while I was preoccupied with the pharmacist. Just before that when I was strapping you in the shopping cart seat, a boy told me how cute you were. Then he told me all about what he was going to buy in the store. At the doctors office, some other kids stared at you, then tugged on their parents' sleeves and pointed you out. Things like this happen all the time.
It seems you would really like to crawl, but so far you fail miserably at it. Instead, you do a kind of Army scoot... you dig your face into the ground, essentially smothering yourself, and then you push yourself forward a few inches with your feet. You don't roll over very much. I've only seen you do it once. I think you only did it because you were avoiding getting your eyes clawed out by another baby. (Your eyes are shiny, you know.) You particularly enjoy playing your feet.
You haven't started eating solid foods yet, although I suppose you are technically old enough now. Your only interest in food seems to be in watching us intently when we eat it... and I think you were determined to squish yourself some sweet, messy raspberries tonight. You are always very confused if we ever offer you any food to eat. You are definitely a mama's milk girl.
I love you lots, Amelia. I think you must be pretty smart, because you're always so intently studying everything. You are so studious. Sometimes I suspect you'll have everything figured out by the end of the week.
Love you forever and like you for always,
Mom
Speaking of which, I have to confess I like Amelia's naked baby bum. I always thought it was weird when my dad would tell my bum used to fit in his hand. But now I understand. Baby bums are cute.
Amelia has continued to be regularly fussy. For all of you who were telling me a month and a half ago that she's teething... there are no teeth in that little mouth of hers yet. And things that are supposed to numb the gums don't seem to help. Nor do any traditional teething pain remedies. Oh well.
I assume most, if not all, of you have been following Amelia's progress on Facebook. But in case you haven't been, she underwent a slew a tests, all of which were normal. Lots and lots of blood tests... some stool tests... and a head ultrasound.
So, the only thing left to try, I've decided, is chiropractic adjustment. (The idea is, a baby might get a pinched nerve during a traumatic birth or something. And I don't know if birth was traumatic for Amelia per se, but at the very least her entire head was a giant bruise when she came out. It's possible.) I'd been putting it off, because our insurance doesn't cover a lot of the chiropractors in town, including many of the ones that are good with babies.
But! One of our friends (who also has a baby about six months old) has a dad who is a chiropractor... and he'll adjust her weekly for free for anywhere from six weeks to three months. Also exciting for me? He just happens to be a preferred provider for our insurance, so I can get adjusted too. Woo!
The bad news... Dr. Clifton is fifty minutes away. I should remind you that Amelia has made her feelings about car rides abundantly clear: car rides are akin to torture.
Well, we made the journey on Monday. By the time we got there, I was a wreck. You try driving that long with a screaming baby. Now don't get lost or killed. I did take a wrong turn somewhere too. And, as if that wasn't stressful enough, somehow I ended up with a horn-happy truck behind me who'd honk angrily anytime I braked at all. Not exactly sure how I ticked the driver off so much, but clearly, I did.
We made it, and the chiropractor adjusted a few places for Amelia. Her legs now appear to be the same length, whereas it at first seemed her left leg was shorter.
My adjustment was much more of a process. They took an x-ray of my neck. It is bending the wrong way. "Wow. You DO need to be adjusted," was the doctor's comment. And so I was adjusted in about a gerjillion places. I am suddenly sleeping better, and I don't have any headaches or other aches. Magic. Yes, I do indeed think there should be more chiropractic adjustments in my life.
I'm not sure what to tell you about how Amelia's been since her adjustment. Here are my observations, though. For one, she hasn't cried during any car rides. This is highly unusual. She has had some major crying spells, but besides one exception, those seemed to have obvious causes... like being really, really tired... or really, really bored. There has also been a slight increase in good naps. I was also surprised at how her shots today seemed to be no big deal. (A little deal, yes, but only worth crying about for a few seconds, apparently.)
So, at least for a little while, Amelia and I will be travelling to Lebanon every Monday to see the chiropractor. I'm pretty sure I'll at least benefit from it, even if Amelia doesn't. And she does seem to like the staff. While I was being adjusted, she perfectly happy "helping" the receptionists.
Anyway, I've also been wanting to do another "a day in the life" post, but I'm not sure I have enough time tonight. Instead, I guess, I'll write a letter to Amelia about what she is like now.
Dear Amelia,
I do believe you are developing a sense of humor... and the capacity to giggle. You think it's funny when I make exaggerated chewing sounds, and when I pretend to eat your belly. I don't think you're ticklish. You enjoy sticking your tongue out. Your favorite sounds to make are spit gurgles and raspberries.
One of my favorite things is your face first thing in the morning. Although I admit I dread when you open your eyes because I'd usually like to sleep another four or five hours, I find that my heart melts when I see you twist your head up to see if I'm awake yet. I usually pretend I'm still asleep. You wiggle and wiggle and wiggle impatiently. And when I finally open my eyes, you immediately flash your biggest grin.
I do my best to entertain you all day while dad is at school and while Auntie Beek is at work, but I think you get bored with me pretty quickly. I often find that when I am unable to console, your dad will waltz on in from a long day at work, and you will be just tickled pink to see him. You really like to play with dad. I sometimes think I must be boring.
But perhaps I'm not all that boring. I think you might be the most fun for me after you've gotten bored with dad in the evenings. I'll take you back, and you are all full of grins. This is the time of day when I am most likely to get some giggles out of you. Your giggles are the best, particularly after a long day of mostly just screams.
Sometimes at night you make it way too hot for a blanket. It's okay, though. You're a pretty good cuddle buddy. You somehow push both of us across the bed at least a foot during the night. I think this happens because I move over a few inches when you're done nursing in the night. And then I wake up to find you snug up against me, bobbing for nipples.
We are getting kind of good at communicating. You've gotten into the habit of leaving your mouth wide, wide open if you're hungry. Sometimes you will try to suck on my cheeks or my chin when you're hungry. Or sometimes, you try to latch on through my shirt. You are never successful.
Yesterday you sat up unsupported for nearly three minutes. You only sit up when you are in the mood to do so, though. It's fairly often that we will try to sit you up, but you lock your legs and refuse to do anything but stand. You also seem to enjoy being held upside down. Strange child.
You are terrified of the blender. Also the popcorn popper. You cling to me when those make noise. And, if you're asleep, you scream yourself awake like you just had a nightmare of mechanical horrors.
You do not like diapers. I caught you yesterday morning with your diaper half-off, and this morning I found you scratching at it. You much prefer to use the potty. I don't blame you. You also seem to dislike clothing. I have discovered that it is far easier and far less traumatic to wrap you in a blanket when going outside than to try and strap you into a sweater or coat.
You like going to storytime at the library. Not only do you enjoy the songs, I think you particularly like to watch all the toddlers be exciting. It also seems that, among strangers, kids are your biggest fans. Today while we were at the pharmacy, some little girls came up and told me how cute you were. They danced for you while I was preoccupied with the pharmacist. Just before that when I was strapping you in the shopping cart seat, a boy told me how cute you were. Then he told me all about what he was going to buy in the store. At the doctors office, some other kids stared at you, then tugged on their parents' sleeves and pointed you out. Things like this happen all the time.
It seems you would really like to crawl, but so far you fail miserably at it. Instead, you do a kind of Army scoot... you dig your face into the ground, essentially smothering yourself, and then you push yourself forward a few inches with your feet. You don't roll over very much. I've only seen you do it once. I think you only did it because you were avoiding getting your eyes clawed out by another baby. (Your eyes are shiny, you know.) You particularly enjoy playing your feet.
You haven't started eating solid foods yet, although I suppose you are technically old enough now. Your only interest in food seems to be in watching us intently when we eat it... and I think you were determined to squish yourself some sweet, messy raspberries tonight. You are always very confused if we ever offer you any food to eat. You are definitely a mama's milk girl.
I love you lots, Amelia. I think you must be pretty smart, because you're always so intently studying everything. You are so studious. Sometimes I suspect you'll have everything figured out by the end of the week.
Love you forever and like you for always,
Mom
