BUT, these are some stats that I can't be called crazy for having because they were given to us by a medical professional! Izzie had her 9 month appointment yesterday. She was 29 1/4 inches long (94th percentile) and 21 lbs, 7 oz (88th percentile). This chick is a beast.
As a fresh 9 month old, she is rocking 12-18 month clothing no problem. Those 12 month clothes that I bought when I was pregnant, just sure the size had to be wrong because there was no way my baby would fit into that at a year old? Well, I was right...because she is nearly busting out of them at 9 months. The 18 month shirt I bought for under her Halloween costume so she could wear it all winter? Probably will last thru November if we're lucky. Ah. I love my deliciously healthy baby, don't get me wrong. I just wish they didn't have to put an age on the clothes. It's making me feel like I'm losing my baby too soon. Can we just give the size a letter? She could be size K, or even Q for that matter, just don't tell me she's the size of someone twice her age! (Also, an interesting side note: While her weight and height are clearly proportional, she has itty bitty feet. Her 6-9 month shoes are too big for her. Let's hope that evens out so we don't end up with a 6ft daughter in size 4 shoes.)
Facts about 9 month olds:
9 months olds have hair that is long enough to curl at their
neck after a bath and get stuck in the collar of their shirts.
9 month olds pop up everywhere!
9 month olds eat big girl food. (You can guess the amount
of food that actually gets into her mouth given the
two expectant canines that are ready and waiting.)
9 month olds go to weddings.
Bad news for cousins: 9 month olds fight back!
9 month olds ride in big girl car seats!
No more infant carriers! (Big thanks to the
Harms', Rahn's, and Larson's for the gift!)
I wish I had a picture of this, but something else 9 month olds do? Play in their cousin's room with them "by themselves". Caden is recently really fond of Iz playing in his room with him. I have to remind him to leave the door open--"But then she get out!" he protests. I have to remind him that he probably shouldn't try to pick her up--"But she can't go over there!" he argues. I have to remind him that, although he's really good at making sure she doesn't play with things she's not supposed to play with (small cars, cords, etc.), he does have to let her play with something--which is usually met with him digging in his closet and presenting her with a toy he no longer plays with as if it's such a treat. But she doesn't care! And although their play is less than perfect, it is so precious and sweet that he loves her so much and wants to be with her. And he has his shining moments, like when I was standing outside his door while they played in his room and heard him say, "You wanna play football, Iz? Okay! (ball slams against the wall) Go get it, boy!" He tries. And we love him for it.
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