I now am the parent of my very own Monster Baby. The Bean is growing like a beanstalk; they know me in the kids section of Target as I venture every week to purchase ever-larger sizes for my son. He currently wears 9 month onsies. At 4 months. At his appointment last week, he measured nearly 28 inches, which apparently is off the charts in the percentile ranking. His weight, at 16.5 lbs, falls into the 75th percentile. So does his head measurement, of which I can't quite figure out the purpose except to let us know that he either has a really big brain (yay!) or an abnormally large noggin for his age (boo.) I'm sticking with the brain thing. (Side note: if they measured ears, I'm sure that Noah's would be record-breaking as well. I've never seen flaps like these. Except in his Daddy's baby pictures. They are adult sized. Adult elephant, that is. And don't you ever tell him I said that.)
Back to his weight. The lower ranking is fortunate, I suppose, in that he is not superfat. Just really, really long. But as his thighs expand in circumference, multiplying their rolls, I am left to wonder how much longer we can keep this up. The purchasing of luxury-priced baby formula is what I'm talking about. Because, of course, my son can't just stick with the Gerber or whatever. He must eat the super super sensitive allergy tummy formula stuff, that costs about $100 every week. Holy sham, Batman. This year could've bought me two Gucci bags with that payout. I guess I should be thankful, because if I had been able to breast feed my boobs probably would have petered out into potato sacks by this point.
This week also marked my first ever up the back diaper blowout. I guess I should be grateful it took this long. But as if it could get any more cliche, I ran out of wipes right in the middle of the fiasco. There was poo everywhere - under my fingernails, in my hair, in his hair, my forearm, my chest, his face, his changing table cover and then table after I took the cover off, etc etc etc. Grody. When do these start getting firm?
On a lighter note, he also started laughing last week. We can't figure out the key yet to get him to do it on cue, although it seems to have to involve his sister acting like a few screws are loose. But having babies that eat too much and bankrupt you and then poo all over you to rub it in, well, the laughing makes it all worth it. I can't stand it when he laughs, it is really too cute for words to even explain. Though if you have kids, I'm sure you know just what I'm talking about.
