Oh my achin' back

Hunter had his 4-month checkup today. He's healthy and strong and getting ready to push through a couple teeth. He had four shots, hollered bloody murder while getting them and then was done by the time the nurse was finished band-aiding him. Tough little dude.

So, yeah, about that back ... it's aching because he is:

18 lbs., 5 oz. and 27.5 inches tall. Off the charts for height. I think he's going to be tall like Jerry and built more like my dad, whom I've often referred to as being built like a brick shithouse. Perfect for rugby. Or football. Or watercolors ... whatever makes him happy. Really.

Here's a recent pic:


He continues to be a mellow and happy baby. He rolled over a couple days ago and is now quite happily exploring all the possibilities that increased mobility can provide. Sometimes I lie him down only to come back a few minutes later and he's spun himself around and is halfway turned over. He's also developed a deathgrip to beat all deathgrips. Which is great, except when it's my boob he's got in his killer clenches. YEEEEEEouch!!

Wilder has returned to a sweet stage. He takes care of me these days, bringing me snacks to share with him and wanting to cuddle with me watching "TB (tv) in the big bed!" as often as possible, often imploring Jerry to "GO AWAY Papa." Luckily, Jerry thinks it's pretty cool that Wilder wants just-mama time. Good man that Jer. :-)

Well, I hear the little one protesting the mama-imposed nap. Aren't shots supposed to make a baby sleepy? This one ... not so much.