Maia Week #9 Battle Report

At 9 weeks, Maia is hovering around 11 pounds. At home, I weigh her like I weigh my steaks -- using the bathroom scale while gently cradling the bundle of raw meat in my arms, then weighing again without the extra encumbrance and performing simple subtraction.

We took her to the pediatrician on Wednesday for two-month-old shots. She did not enjoy this in the least bit, but she is now no longer a danger to herself or others when it comes to whooping cough, polio, rabies, pink eye, stink eye, idiocy, or any of a number of serious conditions. In head, weight, and length measurements, she has jumped up several percentiles like an SAT prepper who finally figures out what an antonym is.

During the day, she rarely sleeps more than 30 minutes at a time unless she's in Asian Kangaroo configuration, but she's pretty good at self-entertaining when given enough polka dot patterns to gaze at. She greatly prefers looking to her left, in violation of that Ingrid Michaelson song about looking to the right. To counteract this, we put all of the interesting stuff (like my face) on her right.

We're also experimenting with cloth diapers with mixed results -- Rebecca enjoys the colourful variety and buttock-adjacent softness, while I enjoy how the diapers look like vivid crustaceans when turned inside out but am ambivalent about all of the extra laundry required.