Friday, February 11, 2005


What a whopper!

That’s what my grandfather said about me when he saw me for the first time – I was 8 lbs 14 oz or something to that effect. I can only imagine what he might have said when he saw my plump 10 lbs Simon for the first time.

I’m pleased to say that today at his one-year check-up, he has clawed his way back on to the curve at the 90th percentile for weight after being off the charts for the last couple of appointments. He’s a svelte 12.2 kilograms – that’s just shy of 27 lbs, if I did the math right – and at 77 cm (30 1/3 inches) tall, he’s in the 80th percentile for height. My other whopper, Tristan, was usually the other way around… 90th percentile for height but only 50th percentile for weight. We did that old wives’ tale thing, double his height at 2.5 years old to approximate his adult height, and he came in at 6’9”. Yikes!

A proud mommy moment today: as we were putting our coats and boots on to get out the door, Simon was sitting near the two steps that lead down from the hallway to our little foyer. After tumbling down the stairs a few times in his early mobility days, he has been pretty good about not attempting to get down the stairs himself. (Up the stairs to the bedrooms is another matter entirely – he can do it without missing a beat.) To my astonishment, I watched him tentatively stretch out a leg as he sat at the top of the stairs, test his weight, turn completely around and crawl backwards down the two stairs without any prompting or help from us. Now, crawling down the stairs may not seem like a major milestone, but we hadn’t been teaching him how to climb down yet – he figured it out on his own. My intrepid little adventurer, surprising me at every turn. (Edited to correct the boys names per the resolution of my identity crisis.)