Two months? Really?

It's true. Emily turned two months old on Thursday. (On a completely unrelated note, we've clearly turned a corner. It's just after 10 pm on a Saturday night and I'm on the computer. Kate's feeding Ems on the couch. The only one drinking out of a bottle right now is the kid. I mean, what the hell? How did we get here? But I digress.)

Two months is fun. She's smiling when we come into view. She's holding her head up. She's discovering her hands and feet. But it's not all fun and games. Her gas has reached a new adult level. Between Daddy, Ems and Moose, it will be a small miracle if the house doesn't go up like a roman candle one day. Hard to believe more people don't stop by.

Of course, two months brings another doctor's appointment complete with three shots. Ems was not a fan. She let everyone know. 

Ah, but there's a light at the end of this particular tunnel. When Emily was born she was 22 inches long on her left leg and 19 on her right. This checkup showed she had grown a little over two inches on both sides. 

Now, in case you hadn't picked up on it yet, I am not a doctor. I know proximal femoral focal deficiency is a rare condition with various intricacies involved that are unique to each individual case. Her right leg will not catch up to the left without divine/surgical help. Still, I can't help but think that as long as her legs keep growing at the same pace, that's gotta be a pretty good sign.

Let's hope the real doctors agree.