Last week I took the day off of work to spend some extra time with Marshall and take him to his 9 month check up. He's 17.5 pounds (40th percentile), and 27.5 inches (5th percentile). He's been pretty consistent with the 40th percentile in weight (according to the WHO breastfed chart), and dropped pretty significantly in height. I'm not too worried about it because measuring a squirming baby is def not an exact science so he could easily be taller, and if he's not, we'll I'm a shortie and Jerad is only 5' 10"ish so its not like any child of ours is going to be a giant.
Anyways, he got a clean bill of health, still hasn't been sick or had a diaper rash and was a little ham to Dr. Tiffany. The midwife who delivered him is also a naturopathic Dr. and that's who we see so its fun because she's been seeing him literally since before he was born. She asked if he was saying any words yet, and he wasn't at the time. Two days later he started saying "hi." Melt my heart.
He had his iron levels tested and they were fine. It was funny because he screamed while she was holding and cleaning his finger, but not when she actually pricked it and squeezed the blood out. That he just wanted to eat.
After the Dr. we went to the park where almost every picture I took turned out completely ridiculous. Allow me to illustrate:
Oh well, I guess even cuties like Marsh have their "off days."