Dexter had his 8 week checkup yesterday. He's up to 12 lbs 8 oz and measures 24.5 inches. Those stats officially make him a big baby, which you can tell just by looking at him. He's kind of all torso at the moment, with stubby legs and arms.Beyond that, he's smiley and mellow and generally delightful. It's funny--I have this list detailing all the minutia of Henry's early weeks, with dates he reached little developmental milestones duly recorded. But beyond noting his first smile, I'm not doing that with Dexter. I know he'll get there with all those things. I'm just enjoying his babyness as a whole and marveling at how special it is to cuddle a little newborn. I know it goes by fast.
A few hours after I got home from the doctor with Dexter, Tom was off to the CHEO emergency room with Henry, who split open the back of his head falling off a kitchen chair. He was perched on it, rocking back and forth while playing on the computer, when it slipped out from under him. Sigh. I'VE TOLD HIM A MILLION TIMES NOT TO STAND ON THE CHAIR!!! Getting a 3 year-old to listen is a tall order, let me tell you. He's totally fine--there wasn't too much blood, but it was obvious the wound would have to be stitched or glued back together (it was glued). I wonder how many times we can take our child to the hospital with a minor head injury before the authorities start to ask questions? Or do they just understand that rambunctious children take their knocks?
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