Long weekend

Dinner Saturday night was with some friends who have also been working on getting a baby for a very long time, though they have worked through some serious medial intervention while we worked the adoption route. I know how troubling and tough this has been for them, so I was worried how they'd react to having Jack be the center of attention all evening. They were fine. In fact, Debra couldn't keep her hands off Jack, and Tom repeatedly marvelled at how little the boy is.

Well, we did check earlier and it appears Jack has grown in length and in head circumference since we took him to the Doctor last week. Whew! I certainly wasn't worried, since the boy seems eager to eat and poop and cry at the top of his lungs while bossing us around. He's developing his eyesight and even lifts his head quite well for a kid not yet three weeks. Emily, howevr, was worried that Jack was in some pretty low percentile ranges for size. He's going to catch up, though.

Speaking of size, we met a woman at Babys R Us today who was feeding her seven year old from a bottle. And it appeared to be a bottle of expressed breast milk! I can imagine if we lived near a California cult or something, you know, up in the mountains around Humboldt County where the marijuana grows as tall as Redwoods and the hippie culture still thrives. We engaged the woman in conversation while I wondered just how a six year old could be so big. I was ready to place bets he didn't need a car seat anymore. Then Emily asked the question. How old is your son? Five months.

All I could think of was that her husband must have taken on an extra job or something to pay for the push present. This kid wasn't just big, but his head was bigger, sort of like the proportions in the Peanuts comic strip. The woman was a modern miracle for having survived the birth. I was thinking maybe they had a St. Jude statue on their stroller in honor of the miracle, or something. . . Wow!

So ends another thrilling day, with a bit too much whine and not enough wine.