13 lbs., 8 oz.

Guess who saw the doctor today and doesn't weigh enough? A generous reading is that she's in the 25th percentile (or centile, as we say here). He said she's obviously healthy and happy but that we may want to try supplementing with formula. I am surprised by all of this, as Tommy was such a tank. She gets vaccinations in three weeks and will be weighed again then. I am more than a bit concerned and really don't want to supplement even though I know it's not a big deal.

In better news, Tommy just flew by me, running from the balcony to the potty, yelling "I have to poop!" Then, he did poop. IN THE POTTY. There are no words to express my joy. (Though, in one light this feels a bit like a parenting failure as he was obviously ready to be potty trained and I kept putting it off and blaming it on his bad attitude.)

This morning, I brought Lizzie out and Tommy said, "Hello, Lizzie! I'm eating toast. Do you see my toast? That's peanut butter."