So it's confirmed : this little girl is a giant. Weighing in at over 17 pounds and standing (well, laying) more than 27" tall, Alice is so large she doesn't even fall into the percentile chart. She's literally "off the charts." There's no protocol for these stats, so the pediatrician documented her as being in the 101-ist percentile, which, clearly, is totally nonsensical. She's larger than the average 6 month old! She's height/weight proportionate, there's no concern that she's overfed. And in fact, she's not even chubby
(just normal thigh-rolls-thick-wrists-baby-chubby).
Not sure if we should be proud or embarrassed, but it explains why she's been sleeping a solid 11 hours through the night since... well... since about birth. And why it's been looking like her carseat is a miniature. And why her socks haven't fit her feet in months, barely squeezing over her toes just to reach her ankles. And why the only clothes she can wear are sized 12-months.
As you can imagine, Alice outgrew the bassinet weeks ago, and we finally moved her into Everett's room (I mean "the children's room"), to sleep in her crib. For a couple weeks we'd ask Everett if he wanted the baby to come into his room with him, and he'd cast his eyes downward shyly, nodding his head vigorously, whispering "yeah! yeah!" We were nervous about one crying and waking the other up, but so far, so good. And when we go up in the morning, and turn on the lights and open the curtains, Everett points at the crib and goes "oh, baby!" like she might not be there this time and he's so relieved that she is.
She simply opens her eyes, turns to look at him and giggles.