Good Show

We are back from our 15 month appointment. And, I was right: Vivian is growing. Like a weed, I say. She is now 31 inches, or in the 50th percentile for her age group. This is astounding on many levels: 2 appointments ago we weren't even on the charts for height; I still have to roll over the waistband of her 12 month pants, and some 6-9, or they are too long. In fact, I am pretty sure they measured incorrectly--but my tape measure is in the garage, and thus much too far to fetch. In any event, I should probably just enjoy this completely "normal" position on the growth chart and stop fighting it, no? I doubt their measurements were off by more than an inch. As for weight, she maintains her healthy position in the 10th percentile. Dr. K was very proud of her.

She is right on track with all her milestones except walking. Oh, and eating with a spoon. But, why, pray tell, would I give a spoon to a 16 month old child who routinely gets food between her toes while using her fingers to eat? I mean, I realize children are messy, but, honestly, must I really encourage the little bugger to pour applesauce on her head? Unfortunately, Dr. K did suggest I let her give the spoon a try. I have never been one to just blindly do as I'm told, though, so we will see. (Wait! I am so! I always do what I'm told, if the person who tells me is in a position of authority! And since I am only a lowly old mother, everyone except my husband and children are in a position of authority. But I will break from the shackles of my upbringing and say no to the spoon. You watch me!) As for the walking, Dr. K said not to worry until 18 months, and even then, so long as her muscle strength seemed fine, and it's more of a comfort zone or control thing with her as opposed to physical capability, no sense fretting. She will walk eventually.

All in all, a good appointment. Although of course at the end Dr. K asked about Isaac and suddenly I got some dust in my eyes and felt a furious need to sprint from the office (Flight! Flight! Flight! Never fight, in my world). She means well, and how could she know that I have so denied the existence of a problem that the mere mention of it would cause such a reaction? Poor woman. Fortunately for me, she quickly left the room so I could freak out in private. And--more fortune!--we do not have another appointment for Isaac until his meeting with the specialist in January and his 3 year with Dr. K. in February. So I have months-months!--to continue floating along in my lovely river of deNile.