I know School House Rocks says it's the Number 3 (and who can really argue with School House Rocks? Please.) But in our household, for a loooong time, the magic number has been 20. As in 20 pounds. More specifically, 20 pounds of Ethan.
At one year, our fat-challenged child (oh, the cruel irony of it all said his chubby mama) weighed in at a whopping 16 lbs. Fine. So he more than tripled his birth-weight. That's an accomplishment and all, but 16 pounds still kept him clinging by his wee fingertips to the growth chart.
We have watched the nurses slowly drag the scale weight over farther to the right all year long. At one point, after his crouptastic stay in the hospital this December, we noticed he jumped from 18lbs to 19lbs in one month and I saw visions of having a 24 pound 2 year old, back up on the charts, and double-fisting protein drinks. But no. We've been hovering at 19.5lbs since about February.
On Thursday, along with our enigmatic "HFMD" diagnosis (more on that later) we also stepped up to the scale. First of all, it was Ethan's first time on the big kid, standing up scale. How's that for one of those "non-milestone" milestones that make a mama's eyes well up? No more baby scale for my...baby. Sigh.
And in his shorts and shirt, he was....21.5 pounds!!! Now, being the obsessive self-weigher that I am, I KNOW his little shorts and shirt (and new diaper) didn't weigh more than 1.5 pounds. Considering I can shed my shoes, jeans with belt, shirt, bra, pee, etc, before I step on the scale and only show a 2 pound difference from fully clothed to buck-nekkid, I know Ethan's clothing can't add up to more than a pound, and that's being generous.
So FINALLY, a mere week and a half before he rounds the corner to 2, this little bean is finally 20 whole pounds. Hello, forward-facing car seat!!! Hello, 18-24m clothing!!!
Oh, and about that Hand/Foot/Mouth thing? Yeah. I'm not sure if I've read quite enough information on it (note sarcasm), but I don't think that's what E's got. I don't mean to come off all Jenny McCarthy (ie: I have a Google degree in medicine) or anything, but his fever started on Thursday morning and at mid-afternoon on Saturday, with no fever in sight for almost 24 hours, I am still waiting to see anything that remotely resembles a blister or spot or even remote discoloration anywhere on the supposedly afflicted areas. Hrm. We have missed play group, time with our baby whisperer and swimming classes due to the phantom plague and I am starting to believe it was a figment of our pediatrician's imagination. Better safe than sorry, obviously, but the poor kid. He's booooooooored. And just so you know...a bored toddler? Really bad company.
In Ethan's case, 20 pounds of really bad company.