My baby has a fat head. No, it's true, but to be fair, all of her is pretty fat. To be even more fair, she's supposed to be fat. That's the thing with newborns, the more horribly obese they look, apparently, the more healthy they are. Unless they are actually obese, of course, and then they aren't healthy at all. It's a fine line but we have been assured by medical professionals that, as a breast-fed baby, her level of fatness is quite normal.
'Normal' or not, she's got a massive head. I'm talking about a scientifically larger-than-average sized baby head here. This isn't some subjective decision I've made to give her an early complex and ensure my psychiatrist bills remain high (er) throughout her childhood. No, according to the lovely nurse who jabbed our baby with two needles, sending her into a three-day 'fussy' period (if you want to call purple-faced screaming coupled with a fever and an all-over-body rash 'fussy'), and then measured her, New Mouth To Feed's head is massive. She is in the 50th percentile for overall growth, making her normal as normal can be, but her head? Hang on, 'cause this suckers in the 95th percentile for size compared to baby's her age. This means, essentially, that 94.99% of all other baby's her age have smaller heads. Ay carumba!
This is just one of the many characteristics, both physical and emotional, that she has inherited from her father which is me, in case you're not following along, or rather, like me, find that hard to believe (and I mean that in an 'I'm too immature to have babies' kind of way, not in a 'I need a paternity test to prove this is my baby' kind of way). It's true, I've got a massive cranium, but it works on me. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not freakish or anything, and in fact I am quite handsome (no, it's true, my Mom always said so). My cranium is very, very bony. I have some 'non-metric traits' which make osteo-archaeologists everywhere drool with the thought of one day getting to examine my skeletal structure.
A 'non-metric' trait is something that isn't very common in the general population, and in my case refers to mandibular torri. This is, simply, extra bone growth in the mandible but in my case they are both lingual, and buccal (both sides of the mandible). Even with rare, non-metric traits I have to be different. It isn't anything major, really, but it does make tooth extractions extra difficult and I should know, having had NINE extractions in my life so far. The last was a back molar I lost while eating a donut in Dublin. Yea, it sounds stupid and unbelievable but it's true and it makes for a great story over pints....or donuts. Oh, and I'm not some rotten-toothed bastard either. My jaw is simply too small, as are many others in the general population, thanks to evolution. It seems we no longer need all these teeth to crush the mushy food we now maintain ourselves with in the modern world. Once we get back to chewing Woolly Mammoth on the open tundra I'm sure our jaw size will increase once again. Until then, prepare to lose your wisdom teeth like the rest of us.
So, right, back to Cranius Giganticus who, at the moment, is taking an afternoon nap. Thanks be to God for naps, let me tell you. There are times I almost shriek with joy when she finally drifts off, but then that would likely wake her up, and to be honest, I'm scared of her when she's cranky. I find it odd, and slightly surreal that she's developing a personality already, and unfortunately for all involved, it seems to be one very similar to my own. So there you have it. She's inherited my big head, my cranky personality, and my unwillingness to sleep. I remember when I was younger hating sleep. I actually used to resent it as I felt it was cutting into my 'me' time. Now I'm so grateful for an afternoon nap that I...hey, wait a minute, that's a great idea!
Happy Friday Everyone!