We took Peanut for her one year check up today. All is well. She is in the 25th percentile for weight, 75th for height and 90th for head size (we are a big-headed people.)
The husband and I were slightly surprised by the weight (20 lbs. 3 oz.). She's got a baby equivalent of a beer belly and her wrists still look like they have rubber bands on them. Plus, it always looks like she's storing something in her cheeks. (To the 16-year-old Peanut reading this, momma is NOT saying you were fat. You totally pulled this look off and looked adorable.)
He did say we shouldn't let her graze and that she needs to understand that mealtime means eating together. To that, I say pfft. If she eats better during some meals because she's walking around, I'm OK with that.
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A barn in our living room has mooed at us four times tonight. We aren't touching it and it's beginning to freak me out. I'm afraid I'm going to wake up with a tiny Little People cow sitting on my head.
I always had a very real fear as a child that my dolls would do bad things to me in my sleep. I would sleep with all my stuffed animals because I didn't want to offend any of them. I blame Chucky.
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I must go get Peanut's 1 year pictures taken this weekend or my mother is going to turn me into Children's Services. We've had mixed results with photo shoots so I'm a little anxious.
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The other night we asked Peanut if she was hungry. She walked over to her high chair and began pounding on it. Later that night, we asked her if she wanted to take a bath. She walked over to the staircase and began crawling right up them, something neither the husband nor I had seen her do.
I'm going to go out on a limb and say her language comprehension is developing.
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Peanut has almost completely dropped "momma" from her vocabulary. All day, I hear "dada, dada, dada, dada" I have to beg her to say "momma." Sometimes she replies "dada."
She already has her father's sense of humor.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
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4 comments:
Our freaking barn moos TOO! Middle of the evening, no one playing with it BUT barn door left open. Mooooo! I've found that if we close the door, it doesn't scare the piss out of us.
This can only be topped by the psychotic Baby Einstien Musical Motion Activity Jumper. Sweet Lord, that thing would bust out the Chopin without so much as anyone even breathing on it. Was very scary.
1. OH I KNOW. One of my babies was a SUPER CHUNK and was still much lower in weight percentile than in height percentile. We would look at him and think, "Uh....what do the babies look like who are height/weight proportionate?"
2. OUR BARN DOES THAT TOO. I have given this a lot of thought, and my theory is static electricity. Or possessed plastic cows. Either one.
Michelle,
If you don't have a photographer lined up, shoot me a line, I think you're close to the Nati..but maybe I'm just assuming.
amstrongdesign@me.com or you can see work samples here:
http://gallery.me.com/agordon16#gallery
My daughter once had a toy that would randomly talked when I came into the room. It scared the bejeezus out of me sometimes. I once screamed, because I was home alone and the stuffed animal talked out of no where. Nice blog, by the way. :)
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