Not Such a Fatty Pig-Pig

Dear Chloe,

Grandma Penny loves to call you fatty Pig-Pig. Turns out you aren't as rolly polly as we thought. You went for your six month check up last week and had to get four shots. I felt so bad, I had three other nurses come to hold you. One held your little arms while two others gave you shots in your thighs. They double teamed you. You smiled at the nurse while she held your arms. You thought it was a new game. I watched through the crack in the door at the shock that washed over your face when they stuck the needles in your thighs. It wasn't a fair game! I scooped you up after the traumatic ordeal. You calmed right down.

You are 17 pounds, the 70th percentile for your age. You are a tall girl, 27 inches the 90th percentile. I know now why it's harder for me to carry you in the sling, your feet almost hit my knees while I walk with you strapped to me. Your dome piece is large too, the 88th percentile. I guess you will be tall and smart! I hope you never talk down to me or outsmart me though. I had to fill out a long questionnaire about your milestones. Can you roll? Do you respond to sounds? Do you smile and coo? Can you grasp objects? Yes you can! You passed with flying colors. I am thankful I have such a healthy and happy baby. You mean the world to me. I'm proud to call you my daughter.

Your favorite mode of transportation is rolling. The other day, I laid you in the floor while I was taking a bath. You rolled across the bathroom floor and knocked the back of your head on the floor vent. I had to cut my bath short to come to your rescue. You're a little acrobat!


I'm gonna get some good pictures of you over our weekend and post them soon.

All my love,
Mama