Micah had his two-month checkup today, and, sadly, he appears to have inherited my tiny bean. He's in the 75th percentile for weight, the 90th percentile for height (surprise, surprise), and...the 25th percentile for head circumference. Todd can't ever find hats big enough, and I have to raid the tween sections of stores to find sunglasses that fit. I was hoping Micah would turn out somewhere in between, but it's not looking like it so far.
The little dude is up to 11 pounds 4 ounces and he shot up in height to 23 inches. And I'm pretty sure he did all that growing this week. As of Wednesday, he's outgrown all his newborn-size footie outfits. He can still wear the newborn onesies, but he's too tall for anything with feet. The bear-foot sleeper you saw last Friday? DONE.
He also got his first round of vaccinations today. The actual shots weren't so bad, but now? He's so incredibly sleepy, but he wakes up every five minutes or so with this pitiful high-pitched wail. He's totally uninterested in eating, shrieks if you touch his legs where they gave the shot, and is just generally miserable. There's nothing I can do for him, and it's kind of breaking my heart.
Oh and did I mention we're going up to Chattanooga tonight to celebrate Todd's dad's birthday? Overnight trip + miserable, freshly-vaccinated two-month-old = PRAY FOR OUR SOULS.
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