My husband was convinced that Drew had gained a good three pounds since his last well-visit. He held him up like a prize fish and said "28lbs" before driving off to the mall with my daughter.
Try same exact weight, save a couple of extra ounces.
Apparently his diet of all the fruit and bread, intermixed with a sprinkling of steak, breakfast sausages, and eggs on every third Tuesday when the sun is just partially out and the grass has just been cut hasn't done him well in the weight department.
His other developmental milestones, like head growth, height and the repeating useful words like "cut" and "poke" (don't ask) over and over a good fourteen times in a row are perfectly on track. But he's gone from chubby baby to lithe toddler in a matter of a year.
I really shouldn't be surprised considering Quinlan is just barely 30 lbs sopping wet in snow suit and boots and I can cup my husband's ass cheeks comfortably in my two hands.
And I imagine that our decidedly anti-milk drinking (gag), fat meat eating (ew) household probably don't help the situation.
But when your kid isn't gaining weight, it still makes even the most laidback mom a little concerned.
And I'm not a laidback mom.
Now with my daughter, I added extra olive oil to her veggies and meats, and upped her protein with various smoothies and other tasty concoctions. But quite frankly, I soon realized that she was healthy, regardless of what that damn scale said, and I just made sure she ate a healthy, balanced diet, bought her adjustable waist pants, and left it at that.
But considering Drew has no consistent foods, like veggies, meats, hell, even noodles (seriously, what kid doesn't have "noodles" in his arsenal of consistently ingested foods?), for me to add olive oil to, I'm finding myself having to shop like I've never had before.
Whole milk yogurt and I met for the first time a few days ago. And the 85-15 turkey sausages and I are like old friends.
I'm not sure if he's gaining any weight as of yet. But one thing's for damn sure.
I certainly am.