You calling me a piggy?

Marco had his 15-month "well" visit yesterday. I say "well" because he's had a fever for the past couple days. You want the good news or the bad news?

The good news is he doesn't have swine flu. Doc says so. She said, "I'd bet you $10 he doesn't have swine flu." Jeff said, "Really? Only $10? I mean, not like a million? Or even $100?"

The bad news is that because of the swine flu scare, they didn't want his fever at daycare so he's spent a couple days at home.
Stats: (misquoted two weeks ago, I was suspect when I heard he outweighed Joey at that age)

Weight: 26 lbs., 4 oz. or 73rd percentile
Height: 31 inches if I remember correctly or 50th percentile
Head: Still rocking his inherited head at 80th percentile (down from his last appointment, he's growing into it!)
He also finally got a hair cut. We went short because cutting a baby's hair every 3 weeks is ridiculous.

Before (during a flu-induced meltdown):
After: Hot right?

Go Lions.

Marco has no fear. He brazenly sports his LMU gear around Santa Clara alums Aunt and Uncle.

Next thing you know he'll be rooting for the LA Kings. You know, just to be difficult.

Thanks Grandma! Happy Birthday Grandpa!

Thanks for babysitting Grandma! Happy Birthday Grandpa!

Zzzzzzzzzzzz....

We did not draw a moustache on his face or shave his eyebrows. We're grown up now.

Wear it like Beckham. And Papa.

Our soccer adventures got me thinking... enter Marco's new (to him) t-shirt.

This fashionisto is rocking a vintage Sacramento Gold t-shirt circa 1978. On the off chance you've never heard of Sacramento Gold, it was the professional soccer team my Dad used to own. Let's just say it didn't take off. Papa John still thinks soccer is poised to be the next great American professional sport. And I think it's safe to say Marco agrees.

Marco's talking is amazing these days. He picked up the "p" sound recently, so now it's time to say "Papa!"

In less fun news, we took Marco to the doctor for incredible crankiness. She did not diagnose the crankiness, but instead said he might be having problems recovering from a cold and gave him an inhaler. And with it, she gave him a bong. At least it looks like bong... with a face mask attached. In fact, when Marco is done with it, I might sell it on Telegraph in Berkeley. You know, for Marco's college fund.

Anyway, the whole point of this story is to show you this sad picture and tell you that Marco is 26 pounds and 14 ounces. The mystery of the chronic bad backs around here is solved.