Today Ezra turned 4 months old and to celebrate we went to the doctor for his well visit. I was shocked when he ONLY weighed 17 and a half pounds. I was sure he would be over 20. The nurse was surely confused when I said, "That's all?" since that weight put him in the 91st percentile. Everything's relative.
I felt so bad because my little Ez was very happy during the whole visit...smiling when he was getting weighed and measured, talking to the doctor when she was using her stethoscope, and reaching for the animal wallpaper with such enthusiasm. When the doctor was filling up the syringes for his vaccinations he was waving his arms around excitedly while leaning towards the little tray that held the instruments of pain. When I saw his huge grin I felt so guilty...he had no idea what was coming. Ezra's got some powerful lungs and a low tolerance for pain. Broke my heart.
As you can see the pain was only temporary. Below is Ezra showing off his Band Aid-clad, chunker thighs. I thought he looked funny with his socks pulled up and dressed him like this to get a reaction from Martin when he got home. Martin's response? "Sweet! He looks like a soccer player."
This is Ezra when I told him to tell Dad about our trip to the doctor. The memory was obviously difficult to bear and Ezra momentarily became sullen and withdrawn.
But that's one thing that I love about my son, he forgives freely and rebounds quickly.
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