I’m not becoming a huge fan of immunization day. Today was Milo’s 5-month check-up (or 4-month check-up a month late, I think- don’t ask, our pediatrician’s office keeps screwing up our appointments for some reason). He received 3 shots and an oral rotovirus vaccine (which he proceeded to spit out). He did a lot better with the shots, only cried a little, and spent most of the remainder of the visit making a sad face at the nurse. He seemed to say, “I trusted you, I smiled at you, and this is what you put me through?” But the real reason I’m not a fan is the fact that Milo seems miserable and feverish after every bout of immunizations. All he wants to do is sleep, nurse, and cry. Poor little man.
Milo was also weighed and measured: 19 pounds, 25 inches long. The doctor has changed his tune all of a sudden about Milo’s expanding waistline, asking me if I was a big baby, then when I answered yes, told me that it must be in his gene pool. Hey, isn’t that what I tried to tell him the first time, the time when he told me that obesity isn’t genetic, so my former marshmallow baby self had nothing to do with Milo’s current marshmallow baby self? So now he thinks Milo is doing great. Regardless of the fact that he is the size of most of the 7-month-olds in my playgroup. Hm.
I wanted to take some pictures of Milo enjoying his playgym given by Gina-mom, Michael-dad, and Katie & Austin. So, before the aftereffects of the immunizations came on, I took advantage. Nevermind the fact that Milo looks like he is wearing a very low-cut, cleavage-bearing shirt. Yes, that is a 3-6 month article of clothing that is obviously way too small now. Still trying to catch up with this kid!
Please note the look of contentment on his face…
… And about 30 seconds later… losing steam
… And 5 seconds after that…
… Full-fledged temper tantrum, drool included:
Oh, why do I bother?
Really, he’s doing great. Yesterday he rolled over from his stomach to his back for the first time on his own, but I think it was a fluke because when we tried for round two, he seemed to have no idea how to repeat the move. He seems much closer to rolling from his back to his stomach, surprisingly. He takes his legs, throws them over to the side, then his upper body follows. Then, he keeps squirming with the lower body, but can’t quite get the upper to cooperate. Abs of steel, but arms of pudding. He gets that from me. The arms, not the abs.