Petra's 8 months old today. We took her to see the pediatrician as a special treat. She's getting bigger and bigger, gaining a steady 100 grams a week, and is now 8.4 kg. She's 69 cm long, growing at the rate of about 1 cm a month – way down from the astonishing growth spurt of the first few months, but still on schedule. She's sitting just above average on the growth curve. Each time he sees her the pediatrician says, "she's big", "she's doing great" and she is. She's happy, plump, and healthy.
While we were waiting to see Dr Pacheco, a woman came in with her toddler and a week old baby. He was tiny, tiny head, tiny curled feet and hands, tiny little legs. I can't remember that Petra was ever so small. But she was. The baby weighed 3900 grams at birth, about 400 grams heavier than Petra's birth weight. How did we manage, I wonder? How did we dress and carry and feed such a little creature? But manage we did, even though neither of us had any experience with newborns.
Petra's very far removed from those first few days and weeks now. She's mobile, observant, lively, and busy, busy, busy. She has two teeth and more are on their way, top and bottom. She's eating more solid food, although boobs are still best. She's getting bolder with her crawling, making her way into the office and all around the lounge (and finding dust and dirt everywhere she goes, unfortunately). She says dad dad dad and mum mum mum and it's now clear that she means Travis and me by those sounds. Travis gets conversational chatty dads; the mums tend to come when Petra wants food, sleep, or comfort. It would seem that Travis is for play and I'm for work – I'm intrigued that she sees such a clear distinction between our roles.
She's a much more complex character now. She observes and mimics us. Today she got her bib and wiped my chin for me, just as I wipe her. So cute. I can't wait to find out what she's got to say when she starts talking. We have so much more to find out about her.