Seems I've been bitten by the blogging bug. My apologies.  (I got bit by some other kind of bug too, but that's a different story.)

Izzy's 4 month check up was the morning, and she is doing wonderfully.  One thing I hate, though, is having to hold my tongue and be polite while being patronized.

Last appt (2 months), our doctor wasn't available.  We saw a nice old man whom I felt comfortable with and who seemed to have a lot of wisdom and experience.  This time I had an appointment with my doctor, but first I had to suffer through Comic Book Guy.

Comic Book Guy came in shyly, with his long greasy hair pulled back in a ponytail.  His fingers were stubby sausages, and his lab coat could have covered a car nicely.  He was like human molasses, slow and gooey.  Just a big, slovenly man.  I know I'm being hyper-critical, but his looks were very off-putting.  He didn't look like someone I would want touching my baby.

He bumbled with his words until he was able to explain who he was...he was in training to become a doctor, but had been a nurse for 14 years.  I wonder how many children he ate in that decade and a half.  That was mean.  Sorry.

He went over "things I should know" with his little fact sheet.  I told him I was delaying solids until 6 months (endorsed by AAP), and he commented that most of what he knew about and wanted to tell me had to do with starting solids. 

He told me what milestones to expect and cautioned me about choking hazards.  He told me how babies like mobiles (no shit, sherlock) and she would like to grab at the toys.  I then told him that I didn't have a mobile.  He mentioned the mobile thing again later because apparently I. must. get. a. mobile.

Izzy was in her diaper from being weighed and since we had spent so much time talking, I finally asked if I could dress her.  Oops.  Then he remembered he needed to examine her.  He was clumsy and timid and she was in tears when he was finished, but examine her he did.

In the fluorescent light of the doctor's office, I noticed a few yellow "scales" on Izzy's head and asked if it might be cradle cap.  He went into a long talk about what it *wasn't*, describing each malady in detail.  He said he would put it down in her chart and we could follow up on it.  Ok.

He checked her percentiles and I asked if he would write it down for me.  He seemed very shocked that a mother would want to know her baby's height, weight, and head circumference percentiles. 

The whole experience was just kind of odd and uncomfortable.  He tripped over his words several times, repeatedly (and much to Xavier's delight), saying "cradle crap".  Ha.  He acknowledged that I had 3 children and must be an "old pro" at this, but still managed to handle the appointment as if I were a 12 year old.

Then my doctor came in to save the day.  Yay!

She loved Izzy's outfit and we had a nice talk about baby clothes.  She rechecked everything as I guess that's part of the whole training-a-Comic-Book-Guy process.  Both of them noticed how strong she is.  Lots of parents say this about their children.  We're all convinced our babies are advanced.  Every doctor, and in fact every person who has ever *held* Izzy, notices how strong she is.  It's very difficult to manipulate her body if she doesn't want you to.

Izzy liked my doctor's exam. She thought she was being played with.

When my doctor quizzed CBG on red eye reflex, he stammered and ended up having it explained to him by my doctor.  I had to bite my tongue since I totally know why infants are checked for red eye reflex.  I don't mean to be such a smart ass of a mom, but I read and research.  I know tons about baby care.  So I hate to have doctors lecture me as if I couldn't possibly be aware or understand.

My doctor is really awesome in that respect.  I know a loooooooot about pregnancy, and she was always very supportive and cool about it.  She doesn't act like she feels threatened by the fact that I have a Borders Rewards card and internet access.

Izzy was healthy and wonderful.  The doctor checked her head and felt like it was mild cradle cap, which seemed likely to me (which is why asked CBG if it could be cradle cap in the first place).  Baby oil will help if it gets worse.  Right now it's a really mild case that probably doesn't need anything.

She weighs 15 lbs, 11 oz, and is 26 inches long.  90%tile for weight and 97% for height (I think that's what he wrote and I haven't looked at a chart).  Developmentally (milestones and abilities), she's right there with the 5 month olds.  She is growing and thriving.  Good little girl.  She's also getting two little teethies.

She poops on me pretty much everyday and I think I read somewhere that it's a sign of genius.  Hehe.

She got her shots and mommy almost cried.  Xavier winced.  He does not like his baby sister to be hurt.  Both the boys doted on her after that because they were worried about her.  She's happy now, though, thanks to Baby Tylenol.

And the boys were really good, too.  I made them do a "treasure hunt" for vaccination facts, lol.  It's a super lame distraction, but they didn't realize I was pulling a fast one on them.  Orian did hit his brother in the head with a book about understanding strokes, but he tried to read it afterward, and you can't be mad at a kid who understands strokes.

I'm just glad it's over with.  The next one will be her 6 month appointment.

Here's a picture of the big girl from a few days ago (you can't see it, but her onesie reads, "Yo Quiero A Mi Papa"):