At his 9-month check-up about 2 1/2 weeks ago, he was 22 pounds and 28". He's right on track for growth and development, but his dome is officially off the charts. When we asked Dr. Robbins if we should be concerned that our child's head is in the one hundred and first percentile, she responded, "No, it's most likely hereditary. One of you may have a large head." How diplomatic of her. I'm chuckling just thinking about it. It took everything I had not to say, "Not it!" My poor big-headed boys.
|I'm in love with both of those noggins.|
No major updates with regards to Arlo's development. He's just mastering all of his old tricks. He claps on command now, and he's definitely doing it to express joy 75% of the time. The other 25% of the time, he's just doing it to make noise. There's nothing this dude loves more than causing a ruckus.
He's still using furniture (or guitars, or walls, or whatever else can handle his weight) to support himself as he goes from point A to point B, but every now and then, he lets go of one piece of furniture as he maneuvers himself to another piece. He never takes actual steps while he does this, but he has no problem steadying himself without support for a couple seconds. He can already get anywhere he feels like going, so mama's ready for those first steps!
|Steadying himself and making a bunch of noise. Double win!|
He's developed a couple of habits—one adorable, one super strange. First, he enjoys contorting his body into odd positions in order to look under things, like furniture to find lost toys, or gates to see who's on the other side. Ridiculously cute, right?
I don't have a photo of the not-so-cute habit, and you should thank me. Apparently, Arlo's preparing for a famine, because he's become quite fond of storing food in his cheeks. Not just for a few minutes. For hours. For instance, last week, I met Arlo and Danny at The Little Gym during my lunch break, and my crazy child greeted me with a chicken smile. This piece of chicken survived the entire duration of Arlo's class. Every time he grinned or screamed, the class got a nice glimpse of said chicken. That wasn't embarrassing or anything.
|Blurry at The Little Gym|
Speaking of The Little Gym, we signed up for a free class last week to help us decide whether or not we should enroll Arlo for the semester. It's been an exceptionally horrendous winter, and I hate that he's holed up inside all day. Also, he's rarely around other babies, so the interaction would be beneficial. However, he came down with a cold two days after the class, so I'm having reservations now. He's been kind of sheltered, and cold season may not be the right time to plunk him into a class with a bunch of other snotty, drooling babies. Plus, it's pretty expensive, and since hiring our nanny, Luda, we don't have much expendable income.
Onto Luda. We've had her for a month now, and we couldn't be happier with her. She loves Arlo, and I can't believe how he lights up when she arrives in the mornings. I never, ever worry about his welfare while I'm at work because I know he's in great hands. This peace of mind is well worth being broke over.
Now, here comes the photo dump you were probably expecting:
|He loves his pets.|
|I like to spy on him. It's so fun to watch him explore his little world all by himself.|
|Daddy bought him a cowboy hat.|
|He unraveled toilet paper and held up a piece of it triumphantly.|
|He looked cute.|
|He humored his mother and played dress-up. (Is there a secret to keeping a hat on a baby's head for more than 9 seconds? Do you have to glue it on?)|