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Archive for the ‘Health Problems’ Category

Ben, if his runny nose [see below] clears up, has been given the “all clear” for trick-or-treating.  This makes his parents super happy since he isn’t exactly going to be eating the candy he  weasels out of neighbors merits by being so cute.

No.  Really.

Ben sniffles for the doctor

He is, as you might be able to tell, under the weather.  Nothing serious (just the sniffles) so don’t worry.  His peer group is certainly jealous of these numbers:

Height: 33 in.  (94th percentile)

Weight:  23 lb. 3 oz. (30th percentile)

Head circumference: 49 cm (93rd percentile)

The worst part?  He uses that head of his as a weapon.  I had a pretty nasty bruise on my temple after a good-night kiss that didn’t quite go as planned.

Bonus Pru in Rangers gear!

Representing

One of only two kids east of the Mississippi rooting for the Rangers

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… we’re still waiting for the “made glorious” part.

Doctor's orders

Long eyelashes don't, apparently, protect against the common cold

Ben and Pru (and at least one of their parents) are sick with the winter cold that just won’t die.  It’s not terrible, but it is annoying enough to keep all of us up and to make sleep hard to catch.  (Let me editorialize here and say, “Boooo!”)

This morning, Ben went to the doctor for his 6-month check-up.  All’s well for our boy besides the cold.  Stats for those keeping score:

Weight:  17 lb. 14 oz. (50th percentile)

Length:  28 in. (91st percentile)

Head circumference :  44.5 cm (75th percentile)

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4 month check-up

Pru went to the doctor this morning for some immunizations and a routine examination.   Other than dry baby skin for which we received a prescription for a lotion (she, like Coach Z likes her ointments topical, mostly) there is nothing particularly exciting to report.  Relevant stats and a picture follow after the cut.

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Arrrrrgh
Under that band-aid is the proof that Pru is officially done with her first real battery of vaccinations.  Sure, sure we could have relied on the actions of others but we’re weak-willed on top of being rational actors.  Plus, what if we move to a colony of Christian Scientists and there is a Diphtheria outbreak?  Pru just isn’t sold on the ontology of the Eddy crowd.
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Sick

Pru has been ill – congested, coughing – most of the week.  I guess Nietzsche was right:  Christianity does weaken you.

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Some people (notably people who don’t have infants at home themselves) have politely requested more posting.  We admit posting has been light, chiefly because a certain denizen of Dwyeropolis hasn’t been doing much of this lately:

And of course, when the baby doesn’t sleep (or, more to the point, doesn’t sleep unless she’s being gently cradled in the arms of one of her parents as she paces quietly about a dimly lit living room) we don’t sleep.  And when we don’t sleep, taking cute pictures of the baby and posting them online with witty anecdotes takes a back burner to not going on shooting rampages.

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Our cat, the illustrious Calvin Coolidge, the Cat, has a number of bad habits that are nevertheless quite endearing. He always follows us out into the hallway, for example, whenever we’re leaving for work, or church, or just to go out. He also likes to go out into the hallway when we’re not out there, rocketing past our feet the minute we open the door on arriving home. One of us has to pick him up and carry him back in. For his troubles, the pick-upper gets a torso covered in fine orange hairs and usually a few “just a reminder I’ve still got these” claw pokes to the chin. He never does anything out there, opting mostly just to sit and groom. I guess it’s just the allure of the forbidden.

Another charming habit was Cal’s former, umm. vomiting problem. He never picked up the idea – which at least some other cats I understand intuit – that one’s litter box can be used for throwing up hairballs, too. Instead, he chose to just throw up wherever, usually on a soft surface like the bath mat or the bed sheets that he was able to claw over to cover the small pile of stomach acid, cat hair and undigested food he’d just summoned forth. Our repeated attempts to explain that it was actually much easier for us to clean up if he vomited on the floor fell on deaf ears. Luckily, improving health plus an aggressive brushing program on our part have kept him vomit-free for a couple months.

Cal also likes to help with making the bed after we’ve done laundry. But, since he lacks opposable thumbs, all he can do to help is lie on the bed as we try to make it, or burrow under the sheets as we’ve got them on, or pounce after the small folds or bunches in the fabric that move past him as we straighten up the sheets. He was particularly helpful last weekend, and your faithful correspondent was there with his camera to capture it.

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