Dexter had his two-month check-up yesterday, at 10 weeks old. He took his shots like a champ. I took his shots like a champ too, didn't cry at all. His weight is up to 12 pounds, 13 ounces, and he's now 25" long. I think this is giving his father false hope that we will have a tall kid, which is not very likely. I've already been packing up clothes that no longer fit him, which is a little sad. Not just because some of the stuff still has tags on it, but because he's not a tiny little guy anymore. Even though the first few weeks were miserable, I'm nostalgic for the itty baby sleeping on my chest. So nostalgic, in fact, that I'm already thinking of names for #2, but that's a long way off.