...my imp was born. Eight weeks early. He was seventeen and a half inches long and three pounds, thirteen ounces at birth. And was born before the reflex that permitted him to swallow was fully developed. He spent five weeks in the Neo-Natal ICU (NICU), most of the time under a UV lamp to combat jaundice.
The nurses loved him, because even then, he was a happy baby. Yes, he slept a lot, but he was alert and wanted to play with them every time he was awake.
He grew, and he learned to eat without having to have it pumped into his stomach, and he came home with us. It was an insanely busy time, but it was so much fun.
He is an intensely private little boy. I didn't see him learn to crawl--from four months old, he liked to have me put him in his crib and leave the room so that he could play. He learned to crawl, on his elbows and knees with his belly just barely up off the floor, there. And then, he'd crawl into his room and shut the door. He'd knock when he was ready to come out, and he'd scream, scramble over, and slam the door in my face when I'd check on him before that. He learned to pull up and cruise in his room, on his own. Same with walking. Same with riding a tricycle.
(He's not willing to make mistakes in front of me, Daddy, Grandma, or Grandpa. Hence, why we're willing to pay the local Catholic school system to teach him how to read and do basic math. We'll revisit the homeschooling topic after that.)
Today, that same imp, that teeny-tiny boy in the incubator, is a bit over 45 inches tall, and 36.4 pounds, by our scale. He was late starting to talk, but dear Lord, has he made up for lost time!
He turned five at 5:56 a.m. this morning. Woke up at seven. And is currently watching Thomas the Tank Engine, eating sausage links, and will open his present soon.
I'll see about posting pictures if we can get a good one with the stuffed monkey he got in the hospital, the one featured in some of the pictures I linked to.
42 minutes ago