The Kale Family album: Prick my finger, do I not bleed and give you the stare down of doom?

Gretchen had her nine-month appointment yesterday. She got a clean bill of health. No shots this time, though they did prick her finger. The nurse said, "hold on to her tight, Daddy," as she pricked Gretchen's finger. Gretchen just stared at her. Didn't flinch. Didn't cry. Maybe a slight look of disdain. The only thing that seemed to interest Gretchen about getting her blood taken was the Band-Aid. It was off her finger and en route to her mouth before Daddy could blink. He took it away from her. She bled on him.

She did cry while being weighed, which is, as you know, painless. Go figure. Speaking of weighing. Gretchen's height and weight is always of interest, since she's, well, what you might call, um big.

She weighed in at 22 pounds, 10 ounces. She's 30.25 inches long, and her noggin is 18.75 inches in circumference. Statistically speaking, she's heavier than 95 % of babies her age, taller than 99% of babies her age, and her head circumference percentile is 100, which, if I remember my statistics right, means that she has the biggest head of every nine-month old baby in the world.

She still teething, but it's hard to get photographic evidence of her top teeth. She's laughing more and more, and, perhaps the most exciting news, we have had our first word used correctly in context. She's got Mama and Dada down (though she just says 'em to nobody or nothing in particular). But the other day, somebody dropped something and Melissa said "uh-oh." and immediately afterward, Gretchen said it with perfect enunciation in her sweet little voice. Since then, she has repeated it after us. Any time she drops a toy or a puff or something from her high chair, we'll say it, and she'll say it too. Tonight, she dropped the sock she was playing with and said, without any prompting, "uh-oh."