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    9 months

    G is now 9 months old. My little man’s on his way to becoming a toddler, which is both really cool and kinda sad. I miss the little wrinkly ball he used to be already.

    His 9 month check-up was pretty uneventful. He’s tracking on his curve for height and weight, but his head is now in the 50th percentile. Our child sure has one big noggin’, so there better be a smarty brain baking in there. It certainly explains why his clothes fit just fine on his body, but I have one heck of a time getting his head through. It’s OK though: Dr. M assures us G will grow into his head. If not, at least he has a good prospect at a job in the Charlie Brown movies.

    For his 9 mo birthday G got a visit from the sniffles faerie. He’s had a runny nose for the last two days. Unfortunately for us, that means a whiney little man. Unfortunately for G, that means that the bulb syringe has been coming out and he can’t run away from a box of tissues.  The kid protects his boogies as if they were gold and hates the sucker with a passion. You’d swear we were sucking out his brain from the face and sounds he makes. I’m just hoping he won’t be getting any worse.

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