9 Months and Counting

Today was Chickster's 9 month check-up with Dr. B. All went well and Dr. B managed to keep his tie safe this time. He even commented that he would enjoy getting to hang out with Chickster all day, though the rest of his patients probably wouldn't appreciate it and he wouldn't make much money that way.

Neither do I, and love every minute of it. But I digress.

Chickster did really well through the toe-prick to check the iron count in his blood. He must be an Iron Man because he hardly even flinched. He just looked incredulously at the girl who was causing him a mild inconvenience because she wouldn't let him grab her pretty instruments with his toes. And of course the toe band-aid didn't last but a few seconds.

Whose idea is it to try and put a band-aid on a little kid's toe? That won't stay on in anybody's universe. Especially Chickster's.

18 pounds, 27 inches. I knew he was getting heavy. But he's still on the small side. That's just fine with me - I don't know that I could handle lugging him around if he was much bigger.

Apparently his vocabulary isn't quite as large as some other kids his age, but that's ok too. I do enough talking for us both right now. And he'll catch up. After all, boys have half as many words to say every day as girls. Maybe that's because they have to compete with their Mommies. He definitely recognizes words and signs. He just has no interest in repeating them yet.

That's probably not all bad.

Besides, I really don't want to think about the fact that the only time he says, "Muh, muh" (which could possibly be losely translated, "Mama") is when he is unhappy. I'd much rather hear a cheerful "Muh, muh." As in "Mother, you look absolutely fabulous today. May I please have another Puff?"

Chickster's fine motor skills are great, even advanced for his age, but his gross motor skills leave a bit to be desired. Again, that's just fine that he's a bit of a late bloomer. He can pick up a single Puff out of a bowl full of stuff with his thumb and forefinger. He loves touching things with individual fingers rather than his entire hand. But he hasn't yet learned that when he stands to cruise along the coffee table, his feet have to cruise along with his hands. Or that in order to crawl properly, the hands and knees have to move at the same time, or at least short intervals.

The boy can commando crawl, though. He's gotten really good at pulling himself forward with his elbows and pushing with his big toe and knee at the same time. Actually, I think it probably takes more coordination to do that than regular crawling.

I suppose this is good news for the computer gamer in the household. Getting the WASD configuration should be easy for Chickster. He'll be joining in on the LAN parties and pwning these guys around here in no time. However, playing sports may not be high on the list of favorites.

There goes my luxurious retirement.

But most importantly, he's healthy. And pretty happy. And we love him.

Even if it looks as though he won't make us rich in our old age with sports contracts and endorsement deals.

Maybe he'll be the next Bill Gates. That would rock. Then he could recover my lost photos.