One Third Old

Molly Bear turned four months old last Sunday. To celebrate, the Giants won for the first time in thirty-five days. It was a happy day in the Brown house.

And we got our Christmas tree, too. It's too skinny, but we like it anyway. Almost any tree is nice once you get all your own lights and decorations on it.

I'm not sure exactly how much Molly weighs right now [amended at 4:20 pm after the nurse visited the house: Molly weighs 7 lbs 9 ozs], but I'd guess she is creeping close to eight pounds. It's good that we're not sure since the place where she typically gets weighed is the doctor. That means we haven't recently been to the doctor.

We're still playing with her formula dosage and frequency. It seems every time we get her on a good schedule with a max quantity she starts to spit up her feeds. We've backed her down some and have started working back to maximum intake.

For the past couple weeks we've all been fighting colds. Molly and Gavin seem to have it the worst. Molly has been congested for weeks. It certainly makes it more difficult for her to breathe, but she doesn't seem too terribly uncomfortable; and even with the congestion her breathing is a million times better than before the surgery. And Gavin has this wretched cough that he can't shake. Poor kids are on all kinds of cold medications.