healthy as an ox

Back from the doctor, and Jake is 25 inches long and 13 pounds. He is doing everything he should be, and I was happy to hear that the American Pediatrics Association just put out a report that says that generic baby formula is exactly the same as the brand name. That should save at least $50 a month, which will go right into an account. Probably. Maybe. I hope.

The doc said to hold off on cereal and food for as long as Jake will allow or until he is six months old, which is good for me; you all know how I feel about feeding a baby this early- the wonderful world of social work and human services shows a girl so much... She said that Jake's teeth are trying to push through, but they could take anywhere from two weeks to six months to break the gums but I should stick my fingers or a baby toothbrush in his mouth everyday so he gets used to something poking around in there. She was surprised at how vocal he was, and said that Jake's legs are pretty strong for his age. His eyes look and his ears listen, which is exactly what I wanted to see and hear. He was good about his shots, and only cried for a couple minutes.

Because it was too hot to pack up the stroller and walk, Jake had his first taxi ride this afternoon, and I was forced to make the choice to ride with the windows open, allowing the 108 degree heat-indexed day and the dust from 13th Street construction in or shut ourselves in with the air conditioning, the smoke, the stench, and the mysterious wet spot on the floor. We chose to bake, and got a half English/half Jibberjabber lecture from the cab driver for four blocks about how it is too hot for the baby to have the windows down. Okay, funkadocious, just drive thank you. I thought myself lucky to get a cab with working seatbelts so I could strap the carseat in there. Dave was back in the city with the car by the time we got out, so we didn't have to take our chances with a second cab.

I shot some Tylenol down Jake's trap as soon as we got home, and he seems to be holding up pretty well. He can be cranky all he wants, but I don't want to deal with a fever on a day like this. He ate his lunch and is fighting a nap in his swing now.

I do want to post about my new job, but I think that I will take this afternoon and get the downstairs straightened up. There is no air conditioning upstairs, so that filth will live to see another day. So, stay tuned for updates and try to stay cool.

America is burning.