Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Caedmon at Six Months

On Monday, we went to the doctor's office for Caedmon's six month check-up.  I was apparently experiencing temporary insanity when I made the appointment, and scheduled it for 2:30 in the afternoon- right in the heart of naptime, and at a time when I would have to take all three kids with me. 

Adelaide was, of course, a gem throughout the appointment.  She found the tub of books, appropriated one corner of the exam room, and spent the majority of our time there reading about Arthur the aardvark going to school.

If Adelaide was a diamond, Atticus was the rough.  We were seeing a nurse practitioner instead of our usual doctor, and I wasn't sure what to expect.  She walked into the room, all enthusiasm and boisterous noise.  Atticus bonded with her immediately.  She spent the first couple minutes talking with him (really more yelling and laughing back and forth) before turning her attention to Caedmon, who was lying patiently on the exam table, sucking on his toes.  About a minute into the exam, I noticed Atticus struggling to pull something out of pocket.  This is not abnormal behavior on his part, but I knew it would be prudent to keep a close eye on him, just in case whatever he pulled out was particularly disgusting or alive.  The nurse was just pulling Caedmon up to a standing position and testing his strength (with which she was very pleased), when Atticus finally managed to free a rock about the size of his fist from his jeans.  As I was puzzling over where he had found this rock, he lifted it above his head into the air, and before I could even gasp, he had brought it down, clocking himself on the top of the head.

He then fell to the floor crying.  It turns out hitting yourself on the head really hurts.

 I'm not sure whether this violent act was a desperate bid for attention or middle child syndrome rearing it's ugly head. 

Same difference, right?

The nurse checked his head, and he was fine.  Especially since he had her attention again. 

Eventually she managed to finish checking Caedmon over.  He's healthy, although his growth has slowed a bit.  When I imparted this news to Derek, he tore his hair and gnashed his teeth.

Not really.  All he did was tell Caedmon, "Okay, Spudley, you need to focus on overcoming those short Price genes." 

His stats for this month are:  17 lbs, 8 oz (he's gained about a pound and a half in two months, and is three pounds smaller than his brother and sister were at the same age), and is 27 inches long (he hasn't gotten much longer in two months, and is almost two inches shorter than his siblings were). 

I have to admit, I panicked a little when I saw that he hasn't grown much.  Atticus and Adelaide have generally been pretty big kids; such little growth kind of worries me.  The nurse wasn't at all concerned, however, and I guess as long as he's healthy, it doesn't matter how big he is.  That's my story, and I'm stickin' to it. 

Caedmon also got a couple shots.  He cried for about five seconds with the first one, and maybe ten seconds after the second stick.  Adelaide and I were both impressed by this- she kept telling Caedmon that she cried way more than that when she had to get all those rabies shots a year and a half ago.

But that's a story for another day.

1 comment:

  1. I'm kind of glad there might be one nephew that will wait until after his 10th birthday to tower over me.


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