nineteen weeks

Apparently, I'm mistaken. But I'm in good company because at Knox's four month (!) appointment, even the doctor thought Knox seemed like a tank. Our conclusion? That head. That big, mammoth Surrey-like head that ranks in the 92nd percentile, which overpowers any glimpse of a neck. An optical illusion making this baby boy seem like he could be in preschool. He's only tipping the scales at 15lbs - 42nd percentile, and is nearly 26" - 71st percentile. 
Poor thing has an unavoidable flat spot on the back of his head, but if you're sleeping nearly twelve hours at night, there's not much to be done about that. 
And world's best mom found out my kid doesn't have reflux, but rather we're just probably pounding him with nearly too much food at each feeding creating a spit-up ticking time bomb. "If you fill something to maximum capacity and walk around with it, something's gonna spill out." Thank you, pediatrician, for making me feel like I haven't done this before. "If you don't mind the laundry, I don't mind the feelings." So reassuring. I do mind the laundry, and the stains and the smells, but hey, it's what 'works' for us.