Like Sputnik, But Pointy In Parts

I've been mulling over my opening line for this post for the majority of the day. Should I go for an attention-grabbing, scary sounding hook? Or should I play it safe and just tell you what we did today? Perhaps I'll do both.

I saw Phoebe's brain this morning.

More accurately, I saw a picture of her brain on a screen. Her brain is still firmly encased in her un-flawed skull.

Last week at Phoebe's sixth-month check-up the nurses took the routine measurements: height, weight, head circumference. She put on less than a pound in the last month but added two inches to her stature. And her head grew, too much apparently.

When the size of Phoebe's head was brought up I pointed out that my children have enormous noggins. That might sound rude, I don't mean it to. It's simply a fact. Tonight at bedtime we discovered that Cooper's head was too big for the shirt he was wearing. (It's easier to get a too small shirt over a large head than it is to take one off. Just ask Cooper.) We have trouble finding hats that fit. And turtlenecks? Well, they're risky, I'll leave it at that. There are lots of brains in those ridiculously cute heads, so I'm not at all bothered by it.

But I guess Phoebe's head size sent up a red flag. See, her growth chart is supposed to make a nice curve. The line plotting her head size wasn't so much curving to the side as going up. So the problem wasn't that her head was so big, the problem was that it had jumped significantly in size in a short period of time.

This meant that today Phoebe, Cooper, and I (Bryan had kindly offered to work from home so Peter could stay and play, for which I am truly thankful) spent some time at the nearby Primary Children's Hospital. And by nearby, I mean an hour on the freeway away. We were already going to be up there to have Cooper tested for allergies to peanuts and cats (both were negative!) so I asked for an appointment close to his to avoid making the trip twice.

Here is what I learned:

1. The people who drive near the hospital are completely insane, at least the two or three that almost ran me off the road are.
2. Children's Hospitals have way more toys in their waiting rooms than regular hospitals.
3. They also have really cool ceilings and walls painted to look like the out-of-doors.
4. In spite of the awesome paint job, knowing that that hospital is full of sick children is still really sad.
5. Phoebe does not like to be restrained for any reason.
6. Phoebe also doesn't care for an ultrasound wand being rubbed all over the top of her head.
7. Phoebe is extremely loud. (Okay, I already knew that one, but now a large portion of the hospital staff knows it too.)
8. Cooper loves finding sinks that he can turn on and off all by himself.
9. If given the chance to play in a sink (say, while his mom is changing his baby sister's diaper), Cooper will go from dry to sopping wet in a surprisingly short period of time.

The most important thing we learned was that as far as the doctor could tell from the ultrasound, Phoebe's head is just fine. She didn't have any fluid on her brain, which was the concern that caused us to get the ultrasound. In fact, when the doctor saw her next to Cooper he said, "Wow, they do have big heads, don't they?"

Yes, yes they do.