Rosalie turned eight weeks old yesterday. To celebrate, we went to Brooklyn to visit the nice baby doctor, who weighed and measured her (9 pounds 6 ounces; 21 inches – still smaller than her cousin Hunter when he was born). He also stuck her with three needles, as the time has come for her to participate in the vitally important public ritual of vaccination. She cried, unsurprisingly, but once the job was done she calmed right down. Luckily, her basic disposition remains sunny. Her regular grunts to let us know if she needs anything, but real tears remains few and far between.
While we were waiting for the doctor, a volunteer from the Brooklyn Public Library program Hospital Storytelling came by to talk about literacy. She gave us a board book to take home, the Caldecott-winning The Snowy Day by Ezra Jack Keats. We were very appreciative, and we’ve already read the story aloud three times. The book came complete with a bookplate, which we have filled in for her. Rosalie has the beginnings of her own personal library.
The whole car trip was remarkable for being unremarkable in both directions — a first for us, and hopefully a sign of things to come. Here’s Rosalie enjoying the view: