One Year Check Up

We went to see the doctor today. Our baby boy is perfectly large: 85% for height, 85%for weight, 85% for head circumference. Practically perfect in every way.

Grant loves to show off at the doctor's office (or anywhere for that matter), wooing people with his many kisses. There's only one person exempt from Grant's affection. The nurse who gives him shots. She tells me today that these are going "to hurt more than usual." Sure enough, soon as she started pushing that MMR junk into my baby's chubby thigh, he lost it. Soon as I picked him up, he was done crying, but then the stare down of Nurse Rachel began. He scowled. He watched her like a hawk with those big, brown baby eyes saying, "don't you come anywhere near me again." Big Meanie.

Speaking of Big Meanie, my mom taught Grant a new trick. You can ask Grant how a "cow goes," and he'll moo. Ask him how a "snake goes," and he'll hiss. Now, thanks to my mom who thought this made for a productive morning, if you ask Grant how "Mommy goes," he shakes his head back and forth, back and forth from side to side. I do not say "no, no, no, no," but my mom thought that was hysterical.