Fifteen Pounds of Awesome

The name "Eight Pounds of Awesome" is a misnomer-- at no point in her life did Addie weigh exactly eight pounds. She was born eight pounds, two ounces; lost a huge amount of weight in the first three days, leading to Epic Panic ("We'll have a skeleton baby!" I cried. "The kids at day care will call her Skeletor, and constantly attempt to vanquish her with the power of Greyskull!"), and has, ever since, been making up for her waifish first week with an unchecked eating spree that has, in the first three months, vaulted her to fifteen pounds. This means that despite the fact that she just today turned three months old, she is already rapidly outgrowing her six-month clothes and moving into nine-month ones.

This is, of course, a good thing; it means that she is healthy and growing, and probably not going to be one of those creepy kids that will just stop growing and remain the size of a two-year-old well into their teens (although that seems to be a ticket to a human interest story in both People magazine and a one-hour special on TLC). But it also means that my little baby is Growing Up, and will likely be able to steal my car and take it joyriding by the time she's one.

But for right now, she's still just a wee little baby. Although as you can see from this progression of monthly birthday pictures, she's a wee little baby that looks like she could eat her one-month-old self for breakfast.