Reecey-Poop

I used Davis' nickname for Reece as the title of this post because I'm hoping that it won't stick and that one day this will be a reminder to me that Davis (and sometimes I) used to refer to him as Reecey-Poop.    In Davis' defense, he heard me calling Reece "Reecey-Poo" and thought I was saying "Reecey-Poop", so that's where it came from...

Reece had his four-month doctor's appointment last week and it was confirmed.  He's perfect and he's big.  He weighed 16 pounds, 5 ounces (75th percentile); his height was 26.5 inches (90th percentile); and his head was in the 95th percentile.  The doctor commented on how strong and alert he is, and said that everything about him looked great.  Praise the Lord!

Our sweet little boy is growing and changing so quickly.  He's able to push up on his elbows when he lies on his tummy, he chews and bites on anything he can grab, and he is an all-around smiley, happy baby...as long as mama or daddy has him.  He, like Davis, prefers a familiar face to look at, but will give each of his grandparents short stints of lap time.  He has very strong lungs and seems much louder than Davis did as a baby, whether he's happy or upset.  I guess our second child feels like he needs to be the "squeaky wheel" in order to be heard...he might be onto something.