2 Months!

Our little man is getting so big/old! Here are his stats as of today (just about 2 months old...):

*25 inches tall--97th percentile

*13 pounds 9 ounces--90th percentile

Our big boy! He had his first round of shots (well, second HepB) and all is well. He did magnificently! I was WAY worse than he was, and even I deserve a sticker for how well I did. Not sure if I mentioned this before, but little Ollie-man has a little something called tracheomalacia--aka, floppy windpipe. The cause in his case is due to his massive weight/growth gain in such a short time. It sounds a heck-o-lot worse than it is. He breathes REALLY loud and it sounds awful but thats really about it. He got diagnosed at 6 weeks and they said to expect it to subside around 3-4 months. Today, however, Mr. Man's pediatrician wanted to order an x-ray and send him to a specialist just to be safe and make sure everything looks golden from the inside. I'll report when we find everything out!

We spent the last week in Washington visiting my family and introducing Oliver to the rest of my family! He did good on the plane ride both ways, even though on the second flight we couldn't bring on his car seat so he had to stay in our laps. The man next to us was very patient and understanding (thankfully!). Here are the highlights/events/things/etc. from the trip:

1.) All of my siblings have now met Oliver except Van (who will meet him in April)

2.) I found out they were opening a Coach outlet in Centralia 2 DAYS AFTER my flight left. Probably a really good thing for our meager bank account.

3.) Oliver talks! Well, baby talks. He has learned that his voice makes noises besides crying ones--and he loves it (and we do, too).

4.) A neighborhood dog ate Christian's chicken. Christian doesn't know yet.

5.) I ate my weight in pico de gallo from the local mexican place in town.

Ok, so I have to tell this story: people always makes jokes about how I'm "not one to be messed with" and I'm abrasive or outspoken and blahblahblah. I think I'm just opinionated and a tad stubborn (or at least I like to tell myself that). Anyway, we (mom, Sean, babe) wanted to take advantage of the free Grand Slam Tuesday morning @ Denny's. When we got there and saw the line, we opted for the Village Inn across the street. Apparently everyone else had that same idea and it was packed there, too. Anyway, this haggard, leathery hostess was seating us and I politely said, "Oh, we can just move that chair and put the baby on the floor without a swing." This was her response, "Um, I only have TWO hands." My stomach fell out of my butt. Sean and my mom whipped their heads around like the exorcist, eyes-wide with fear about the assumed venom that would, under normal circumstances, be expelled from my mouth. Alas, no such venom was expelled. I calmly said, "Sean, mom, I think we should take our business elsewhere." That we did--but not before my mom gave the manager a piece of her mind. Point of this story? Those who really know me would be so proud! And I just had to share.