So a couple of notes to prelude the main point of this post: (a) we do call Finnegan "The Finn Man." At first, Madie was very much opposed to this until we heard her saying it to him secretly. PSH! Uh uh, girl!
Sorry, got a little carried away with my hip self.
(b) Finn's head, at birth, was a full inch bigger in circumference than Madie's was--and I could have told you that without the nurse telling me that. You smell what I'm steppin' in?
Today was Finnegan's 2-month check up. Let me tell you, he is about 150% easier to take to the doctor's office than someone else in this family (and no, Grammy, I'm not referring to myself). At Madie's two-month check up she did what any two-month old would do: cried. She cried when I took her out of her car seat. She cried when I laid her on the table. She cried when I stripped her. She cried when they weighed her. She cried when they measured her. She cried when they measured her head (and continued to cry every time they tried to measure her head for each appointment thereafter, might I add--often the nurse would leave with an inaccurate measurement from the fight Madie put up and the doctor would have a second go at it while she met with us). She cried and cried and cried when they poked her. She cried when I swaddled her back up, and cried all the way out to the car, where she promptly fell asleep. That was all I had ever known about taking babies to the doctor.
And it's not that I blame her--oh no. I can certainly understand how having some stranger without so much as a lollipop to give her, trying to wrap a measuring tape about her head would be troublesome to say the least.
Finn on the other hand was peaceful, even happy, while we did all of this--except the shots of course. He cooed at the nurse while he lay naked on the scale. He grinned continually at himself in the mirror that ran the length of the table (which is GENIUS to have there, I must say). He didn't even struggle when I held his head to get an accurate length measurement. It was all wonderful! And he only cried while the nurse poked him. Then I wrapped him, nursed him, and walked all the way back home with a happy son.
And now for the fun stuff: his stats!
As of August 14, 2012, Finnegan is 22 1/4 inches long (which is the 25th percentile); 10 lbs. 9 oz. (which is the 25th percentile); and has a head circumference of 41 cm. Guess. Go ahead, guess.
75th.
Which leads Mike to quote possibly his favorite line ever:
"Would ya look at the size o' that boy's heed? It's like an orange on a toothpick."
Sorry, got a little carried away with my hip self.
(b) Finn's head, at birth, was a full inch bigger in circumference than Madie's was--and I could have told you that without the nurse telling me that. You smell what I'm steppin' in?
Today was Finnegan's 2-month check up. Let me tell you, he is about 150% easier to take to the doctor's office than someone else in this family (and no, Grammy, I'm not referring to myself). At Madie's two-month check up she did what any two-month old would do: cried. She cried when I took her out of her car seat. She cried when I laid her on the table. She cried when I stripped her. She cried when they weighed her. She cried when they measured her. She cried when they measured her head (and continued to cry every time they tried to measure her head for each appointment thereafter, might I add--often the nurse would leave with an inaccurate measurement from the fight Madie put up and the doctor would have a second go at it while she met with us). She cried and cried and cried when they poked her. She cried when I swaddled her back up, and cried all the way out to the car, where she promptly fell asleep. That was all I had ever known about taking babies to the doctor.
And it's not that I blame her--oh no. I can certainly understand how having some stranger without so much as a lollipop to give her, trying to wrap a measuring tape about her head would be troublesome to say the least.
Finn on the other hand was peaceful, even happy, while we did all of this--except the shots of course. He cooed at the nurse while he lay naked on the scale. He grinned continually at himself in the mirror that ran the length of the table (which is GENIUS to have there, I must say). He didn't even struggle when I held his head to get an accurate length measurement. It was all wonderful! And he only cried while the nurse poked him. Then I wrapped him, nursed him, and walked all the way back home with a happy son.
And now for the fun stuff: his stats!
As of August 14, 2012, Finnegan is 22 1/4 inches long (which is the 25th percentile); 10 lbs. 9 oz. (which is the 25th percentile); and has a head circumference of 41 cm. Guess. Go ahead, guess.
75th.
Which leads Mike to quote possibly his favorite line ever:
"Would ya look at the size o' that boy's heed? It's like an orange on a toothpick."
 |
| Finn at two months in an 18-month cap. |
1 comment:
Awww! He takes after his Grammie Conner! Now isn't that sweet?
Post a Comment