Spud had his two month appointment yesterday, clocking in at a hair over 14 lbs, and 80-88th percentile for weight/length/head circumference*. He also had his first round of immunizations, and so had a fairly sleepy rest of the day. He conked out uncharacteristically early at 9 pm, on my arm, on the couch**.

Pea: peering at Spud he’s so cute! pokes Spud’s nose

Me: laughing/exasperated WHY are you so incapable of NOT poking him when he is sleeping!

Pea: laughing/embarrassed I can’t help it! He’s so cute! I just have to poke him! Nearly pokes Spud again but catches himself

Me: You are incorrigible! You refuse to be corriged! Go away! 

Pea: but he’s sooooooo cuuuuute!! I just gotta poke him!***
* “80 is an A, Spud”, I said. “You are solidly an A baby, well done”. (I’m going to say these things now because I’ll never say them once he understands me. Also that’s totally not how growth curves work but 11 years of post-secondary education indoctrinates one deeply. Although you’d think the fact that half of those years were focused on genetics might prevail).

** I thought it was a catnap (common) so foolishly did not go to bed until 11. Spud slept til 1 am!^

**** this is by far not the first time we have had this conversation. 

^and has been up thrice between one and six, siiiiiiigh.


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