At two weeks old, Lydie was in the 45th percentile for weight. At two months old she weighed 11 lbs and 3 ounces, putting her around the 75th percentile. She is about 80th for length. I think they said her head was in the 90th percentile.
Morgan is 75th for weight and 95th for height.
I also learned that Lydia's outie is from a herniated belly button. It should go away on its own by age 2.
Both kids got some vaccines. Morgan didn't remember the last time he got them, so even though I tried to prepare him for what shots were, without scaring him, he had no idea what was coming. I held/restrained his hands while the nurse stuck him.
The first one, wide eyes and "OWWW!" The second brought the tears, and by the third, it became difficult to hold his hands. Poor boy. I hate seeing him get hurt. He cheered up pretty quick though, and watched with interest as his baby sister got the same cruel treatment.
That night we moved. My parents and brother came down from Idaho to help me load up the truck. They arrived fairly late though, and it wasn't until after 11:30 that we even finished. Morgan had been helping a lot and getting in the way a lot. Then I noticed he started to limp. The limp gradually became more pronounced, though he didn't complain. Eventually we convinced him to sit with Grandma and Lydia on the couch under some blankets, (It was cold outside!) He said he was done walking and expected to be carried to the car. Any weight on the leg afterward caused him to cry because it hurt him so bad.
When it was finally time to leave, we got him in the car, where his teeth chattered with cold. Right after buckling him in, he threw up. A lot. It was foul. So, it was back inside to change and get cleaned up.
Can we say bad timing? Word to the wise, don't immunize your kids on a busy moving day! So, with the car smelling like throw up, we started our journey. Morgan soon went to sleep, and when we arrived at my Aunt and Uncle's house 1 1/2 hours later, he was completely out of it. Didn't wake up until 10:00 the next morning. Oh, and he was pretty much completely better.
Saturday we drove up to Idaho. So now I'm living with my parents again. My life isn't exactly how I pictured it would be as a 26 year old. I guess you just gotta roll with the punches. And the kicks, and the back-stabs, and heart grindings.
But I am glad to have a good, supportive, family. That makes things much better. Thanks, family.