Eating My Words...

Holynd had her two-year well check... Oh boy...

The day started out weird. Thursday is my second laundry day. (Monday is my first laundry day. It's also cleaning day. Well, Thursday kinda has become a second cleaning day too... Because, apparently, you have to add a cleaning day for every baby.) Anyway, I was hanging some laundry up to dry and my mind was wandering. I started thinking about how awful my washing machine was. I kept thinking about how all of Holynd's jammies were shrinking every time I washed them and how a new washing machine would pay for itself because I pretty much need to replace all of Holynd's clothes.

I don't know why it didn't dawn on me that NO ONE ELSE'S clothes were shrinking. Like my washing machine would actually be able to selectively shrink Holynd's clothes.

Anyway, I got even more frustrated when I put on Holynd's clothes and her shirt seemed really small. "Great. One of the last shirts that still fits and it has shrunk too."

I made mental notes to ask my wonderful husband to loosen the savings account purse strings so that I could get a decent washing machine.

I pushed all the frustration away and threw everyone in the car so that we could make the trip to the pediatricians office.

"Holynd smile 'cause you're going to the doctor!"
This is what I got. Awesome.


Well, I sat nervously in the doctor's office waiting for Matt to show up. I'm always nervous whenever I take Holynd to the doctor. After all the chaos we had after she was born, the nerves just seem to show up automatically. Not to the mention the fact that her growth has been so up and down that we never know what to expect.

Matt showed up and we took Holynd back. She was weighed (Well, Matt was weighed alone and then weighed again while holding her because she REFUSED to stand on the scale.) and then they measured her. And then came the waiting

Oh! How I hate waiting!

Enter our doctor. (I love our doctor). He started asking us same ole' questions... How does she eat? How often does she poop? Does she like books and toys... BLAH BLAH...

Then he got to her growth charts. I held my breath... ("Please be on the charts! Please!)

"Wow!" He said! "Take a look at this mom! 60th percent in weight. 91st in height!"

Matt and I's jaws hit the floor. WHAT!

"Yeah! She's grown almost 6 inches since her last appointment!"

Matt and I stare at each other. Both of us completely in shock! Holynd was in the 16th percentile at 18 months!

(I'm posting this as proof.)


Then he got serious.

"Now, we do measure BMI at 2 years old." He says. "85th percentile is still considered normal... Worrisome, but normal." I almost pass out! What is he saying?! Is he really going to tell us that she's getting chunky! "She's in the 13th percentile. So, pretty much, she has no fat on her either. Long and lean."

Then it dawns on me.... MY WASHING MACHINE ISN'T BROKEN! HOLYND HAS BEEN GROWING! Oh my h*ll, I'm the most terrible mother ever!

To end the story, Holynd received one vaccine and we were sent on our way.

We decided to take her out for a yummy lunch to help heal her wounds. GURU'S, which we love!


Sweet potato fries and nachos! What more could our little girl want!


Maybe a cookie from the Sweet Tooth Fairy. :)

My dear, sweet little Holynd,

You traitor. You joined the tall team without any warning. You have left me to defend the shorties all on my own.

I still love you bunchies!

Love,

Mom

:)