BabyA had her four-month appointment (a week late, but oh well) and all is well.
She was 24 1/2 inches long (99th percentile) and 13lbs, 10oz (66th). I was only partially kidding when I said that I married Husband for his genetics. So far, I have two kids that are above the 95th for height-but then again, I was in the gigantor category up until I was 13, and then, well, things ground to a startlingly quick halt. All 5'2" of me is hoping and praying that BabyA leans towards Husband in that regard.
She had four big, scary, shots and the second of her rotavirus doses. The shots were not at all enjoyable. She started to cry prior to even getting stuck, and after the first one went in, all we got was the silent, purple-faced, howl. I felt so bad for her, knowing how much they must have hurt. I can guarantee that the tylenol will be flowing pretty freely tonight for her poor little legs.
Son was with for this excursion, and contrary to everything that I thought would happen, had a grand old time, and didn't even react to her crying over the shots. He still freaks out when another kid or adult gets too close to her, but a nurse carrying a tray of needles didn't even cause an eyelash to bat. Silly kid.
There's a bunch of other things that I want/need to get down and out of my head, but after being out all last week on jury duty and being selected for a trial, I'm in the weeds trying to get out.