Elliot had a check up yesterday. He's healthy and everything is great. 16lb, 5 oz, 27.5" long. My first reaction to his weight was, "What!? He gained less than a pound in 3 months!?" But, apparently, babies do start to taper off around this point... and since the doctor was not alarmed whatsoever (an attitude like, "He's at the bottom, so what? He's doing fine."), I am getting over my initial maternal shock. Everything else is in line, where it should be, and he's so happy, active, reactive; he eats well, sleeps well... he really is fine. Just still a string bean.
My mother reminds me that I was 29lbs when I started kindergarten. And I know Pat wrestled 80lbs in 8th grade, so Elliot's bound to be a runt. My sister made me feel better by telling me that her little one (who's doing great) gained nothing between 6 and 9 mo, and was only 18lb at 1 year. (Yet, she's a twin, and can we even aspire to that number at this rate? :)
Anyway, this momma is learning to get over the numbers and percentiles. Eventually.
Pat and I were talking about how Elliot used to be Mr. Mellow... he no longer holds that title. He's intense, hyper, silly, goofy, and manic at times. On walks, now, he loves to kick his legs and cackle out loud while people pass. Very vocal. Sometimes I think he thinks the wind is a playmate. Twice today, people 20 feet in front of me turned around to see who was shrieking. As entertaining as ever!