Now that Ruby’s all of nine 10 weeks old, I face a conundrum when I take her to the doctor’s.
You see, there’s a discreet corner of the waiting room that is reserved for “well newborns,” ostensibly so bigger sick kids don’t pass germs on.
She’s well, but is she a newborn?
Up till a week ago, I merrily pushed the pram into the section. But now that Rube the Cube is growing and looking all of her 12 pounds, AND getting on in age, I wonder if she still qualifies as a newborn.
I didn’t want her to be the awkward Giant Kid surrounded by Two-Day-Olds, so I did the next best thing by hanging just outside the “newborn” zone, all the while furtively looking around and hoping we didn’t get beat up by the 10-year-old terrors in the “real” waiting room.
And since we’re considering size, I’d like to know when Ruby in her carseat qualifies for the HOV lanes on the highways.
Or should I invest in a blow-up doll for now?
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