My son, the fatty.

Today I took Leighton to the doctor for thrush. Which, sure enough, he has. I didn't think it was possible to get that unless a baby was breastfed (which he isn't anymore - he's bottle fed with breastmilk and formula), but apparently it is. So we needed some medicine before we move on Friday. But anyway, the incredible thing about the visit was when I placed him on the scale and saw the numbers that flashed up.

Exactly 3 weeks ago (he's 5 weeks old today), we were at the doctor for his 2-week checkup. At that time, he weighed 7 lbs. 9 oz. - he had gained 5 oz. since birth. In the past 3 weeks, he has seriously porked up. Today he weighs 10 pounds 7 ounces. That is almost 3 pounds in 3 weeks! He doesn't look much bigger than when he was born, but he is definitely heavier. It hit me that he really is growing so fast. I always think to myself that I wish he could just hurry up and be 6 months - that is the best age in all of childhood, in my experience. But a small part of me will miss his tiny little body. Today I realized that I need to slow down and appreciate his newbornness, because it's fading fast. I sure love my little porker.

(His one month picture, taken last Saturday, with his giraffe D. Todd - named for the apostle. We had to continue the tradition since we have Eva's Henry frog for Henry B. Eyring and Ballard the duck.)