Interspersed with his multiple parties and his actual birthday, Will had a few more noteworthy events this week. The one without photographic evidence was his three-year checkup at the doctor. The general gist was: still 95th %ile in height and weight (40 inches, 40 pounds), passed his eye exam, totally healthy. The more specific story is that he chose the shot in the arm over the FluMist, got another shot in the other arm plus the finger prick (followed by the bloody finger squeeze, UGHHHH), and went through the whole thing with nary a complaint. In fact, he was positively chipper. I heard them talking about him outside the doctor's office, the nurse and Will's pediatrician using words like "amazing," and "mature." (I feel I can brag about this because Finny then got one lone shot and yanked his arm away even while my dad was holding him down, then cried about the injustice for half a minute before getting distracted by my suggestion of eating a banana. So...I don't think I got two of these, is what I'm saying.) (Not that I don't and won't have things to brag about re: Finny. Just, different things. You know.)
Another highlight was Auntie Lo's visit, complete with a very appropriate Dr. Seuss gift ("Happy Birthday To You," which is way longer than we all remembered) and cupcakes.
And finally, Grandmom and Grandpop showed up at the tail end of the Barn Babies affair to surprise Will a day early--they came back again on Sunday to visit with the boys.
That concludes the recounting of Will's week-long third birthday celebration--I swear. I have a lot to say about preschool and Finny and all sorts of stuff, so that's coming up.
There's more to us than just our birthdays, Mom. Get a grip.
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