My Thug Baby

You know you've got a largish baby when her pediatrician refers to her as a bruiser.  And I'll admit, she does look like she could take most other babies her age.  But it wasn't until I noticed her twisting her little hands into gang signs while she was eating that I started to wonder.

Then yesterday, when we went to the pediatrician, I noticed that she was wearing a stocking cap and a hoodie.

 

(Thanks to Aunt Emily for the hat.  It's one of the few that fit her, and she needs a hat in this weather!)

You may argue against my hypothesis of thuggishness on several counts, one being that I dressed her and am thus responsible for how she looks, and that the prevailing pastel color scheme keeps her from looking too scary.  And you would be right.

The doctor's visit went well yesterday.  She has made up all the weight she lost in the beginning learning how to eat, and then some.  She's gained a pound in the last week, and is in the 90th percentile for height and 98th for weight.  (I'm recording this so that if she takes after me I can point out to her that for one brief, shining moment when she was 2 weeks old, she was tall).