Gramma and Grampa Taverner are headed back home in the morning.  That flew by.  Next time they see Avery she’ll be playing basketball!  A chubby six foot basketball player!

She hasn’t had any trouble with feeding since last night’s return-to-sender.  We reckon we just gave her too much – she kept drinking, so we kept trying to fill the tank.  We think we’ve found the rhythm now.  It will be a week of catching sleep maybe three hours at a stretch, spaced with one hour (45?) feedings.  If I don’t answer the phone before 11, you’ll know why.

Little Peppermint seems happier – and I’ll be danged if her belly ain’t twice the size it was this time yesterday.  Tomorrow it will all be baby fat.  Goodbye chicken wings!  She’ll be a Christmas Turkey just in time!  She’s calm and sociable, and all around seems back on track.  Whew.  More news as it happens.

There was a ton of other stuff I wanted to chat about, but here’s making good on my promise to go to bed earlier.  Bbye!

The Artist Ponders Her Muse.

Darling Avery was active last night.  I think we got about two hours sleep.  I have learned my lesson.  No epic post tonight.

We had a long night with her.  It wasn’t bad – she wasn’t screaming.  Just up and hungry.  And when I say “frequently”, keep in mind that from what we hear, this is more like typical.  So I’m not complaining.  But two hours sleep.  Bleh.

At our pediatrician appointment today, we received the usual round of OMGhowadorable and WhatAHealthyGirl, and Marjorie finally said, “So I’m wondering about her weight.  She nurses well, she has lots of energy, she seems very happy, but she seems small to me.”  The doc took another look, and replied, “Yep, she should be heavier.”

Thanks, doc.  Glad Marjorie spoke up so we didn’t leave for a month assuming all was well.

All is well.  Don’t panic.  Avery is tall – in the 96th percentile.  She’s healthy.  She’s happy.  All is good in the woods.  But she’s on the lean side of normal.  So, we are now supplementing with formula.  I’m excited.  Problem detected and solution implemented.  Let’s pack on the poundage.  Marjorie, being the devoted and wonderful mom that she is, took it a little harder, wondering if she could be doing anything differently.

(She couldn’t – everything is awesome – we apparently just have a baby who needs rocketfuel for breakfast)

Avery was shocked to find herself in my arms when the wet nipple came knocking.  This is not my usual seat.  What’s up, yo?  But we tinkered and shuffled and persisted, and once she got past the first new flavour she’s experienced since Dada’s fingertip, she decided she liked formula well enough to gulp it down.  Slow down there, speed racer.  Take a breath.  Have a nice burping or two on the way through that bottle.  Two bottles.  Thr– holy smokes, baby.  Over six hours she had more food than she usually gets in a day.  Doctor’s orders.  Sumo-size me.  She seemed totally at peace with the world when I swaddled her for bed, and put her down in the bassinet.  We hung out for fifteen minutes or so, chatting.  Then she calmly turned her head to the side and released back into the wild what looked like two bottles worth of formula.  It just kept coming.  Awesome.  Nearly floated her away.

We cleaned up, Avery still good as gold (until Mum changed her, but that’s hardly new).  Mum gave her a good meal from the All Natural Milk Bar, and we planned to give her just an ounce or two of formula to get some calories in her, but she went down like a stone.

So.  We’re expecting a hungry girl tonight.  Thus, I must bolt, if sleep there is to be had.

p.s: We had another great visit with Gramma Di & Grampa Bob.  Avery loves socializing on a full tummy.