Nolan's head is still in the 25th percentile.
He is now in just the 50th percentile for length.
He got a promotion in weight! He is now in the 80th percentile for weight.
He is 28" long and 22 1/2 pounds.
He got a clean bill of health today. No shots. They did take a toe-prick to check his iron, which is excellent.
The doctor was very surprised that he is talking. She doesn’t consider that he isn't sitting up from lying on his stomach yet. He's doing great with all of his other motor skills, so she's not considered. He even showed off some of his fancy skills - like a passing an object from one hand to another, standing assisted, sitting without help, babbling, and reading. (He read his "who loves baby" book. We have 2; 1 with pictures and 1 without. He read the one without pictures at the doctor's office.)
For the past almost 2 years, I have always said Caleb was a great baby. He was a great baby. He was very easy-going. He rarely cried or was upset. But, I'm just now realizing how sick he was. When I was right in the middle of it, I rarely thought of him as sick. He was just not finished growing yet. Now when I look back, I realize he was sick. It's just a different definition. He didn't have a cough or runny nose or a fever, but he was never 100% (or even 70%) healthy.
I've seen this poem a lot lately:
If tears could build a stairway
And memories were a lane
We would walk right up to Heaven
And bring you back again
I wouldn't bring him back. He's healthy now. He's wireless. As much as I miss him, I know Heaven is the best place for him. I'll see him again one day. And that day can't come soon enough.