Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Zoë at four months

I took Zoë in for her well-baby visit today and I took Rachel in for her well-child visit today and I dragged Benjamin and Miriam along with me. The girls were great; Benjamin was a handful. That's just how things are lately.

Zoë seems so big to me but I think that's because my expectations are skewed, having not had a regular-sized baby in my arms for years upon years. Miriam was my baby six years ago. Benjamin was my baby three years ago. It's him I remember when I heft my regular-sized baby and think to myself, "My goodness! She's ginormous!"

While it's true that she's growing beautifully, it's not true that she's ginormous. She's actually not even my biggest baby at four months (that title still belongs to Miriam). She weighed in at 14 lbs. 8.5 oz this afternoon, which is the 53rd percentile. She's a middle-of-the-road kind of girl for height, too, just squeaking past the two-foot mark at 24.8 inches long (58th percentile).

She's doing fine and is just the right size. She simply seems huge because she's following right after Mr. Zeroth Percentile.

Rachel's also the picture of health, though she's probably getting close to the age where she doesn't want me speaking openly about her weight—she's turning into a beautiful young woman. Let's just say that I'm about double her weight but am not, thankfully, double her height. She's 4' 3" tall.

Zoë cooed at the nurse while she prepped the vaccinations that were due today. She made eye contact, smiled, and said, "Ooooh! Oooh! Oooh!"

"I can't do this!" the nurse said.

But she did.


Rachel started crying at the mere mention of the flu vaccine.

"Ask for the nasal mist, Mom," she pleaded when the nurse left.

She always says nasal "nah-sal" and it cracks me up. I told her that I would ask for the spray (mostly because I know that even though I'm twice her weight I'm no match for her when she pitches a fit; also I had three other children to deal with). The nurse said she would put in a note for the nasal mist and when the doctor saw it she said, "I don't know if we have nasal mist yet. We didn't have any yesterday. I know we're supposed to be getting a shipment but it wasn't here this morning."

Rachel started sobbing.

"Let me go check," the doctor said. "Maybe, if the nurse made a note for it, it's here."

She left the room for a minute and then came back in and announced, "You're in luck! We do have the mist! It arrived about an hour ago!"

Rachel stopped crying and started giggling.

"I know," the doctor said. "My kids prefer the mist, too."

This doctor is so, so great. She's got four kids as well—a girl, a girl, a boy, and a girl—but is a couple of years ahead of us. She's so kind, and genuine, and...beautiful. Miriam was smitten. "I changed my mind!" she announced when we were walking out to the car.

"About what?" I asked.

"I'm going to be a doctor when I grow up! Just like our doctor! I love her!"

She sat there drawing her portrait the whole time the doctor worked on her sisters.


The doctor is in the middle of the picture, obviously, complete with a stethoscope around her neck. The table is behind her, a sharps collection bin mounted on the wall. Above the sharps bin is a set of glove boxes (also mounted on the wall). On the right side of the picture are all the doctors tools—her otoscope and things like that—and then there's a soap dispenser, the paper towels, and a sink.

Miriam showed the picture to her and the doctor oohed and ahhed just enough to make Miriam feel appreciated.

So, that was that. Both girls are doing great. I really need to take some pictures of Zoë but I'm slacking. Sorry fourth child. Here's a picture from a few days ago (which is only fair since she's technically four months and a week old):

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