We took Babby to the pediatrician yesterday, and we were much reassured. He thinks that Babby does have some reflux, but that his weight may be levelling out. To be sure, he booked an appointment for next month to make sure he continues along the same line and hasn’t continued to drop through the percentiles.
In essence, his attitude was pretty much “any kid this strong can’t have much wrong with him. Shame about the screaming. Keep up with the Zantac.”
People keep telling us that he’s very strong for his age. I knew the rolling over was early, but I didn’t realize that the other things he does, (like hold his own head up or standing himself straight up on my lap when he’s in a rage) were unusual for his age. But it seems like every time I take him somewhere, some woman comes over to coo, asks how old he is, and then startles.
“Really? Only 12 weeks? He’s very strong for his age!”
“Oh, is he?” I ask weakly, “well, he was overdue when he was born, so maybe he’s a couple of weeks ahead…”
I was hoping for one of those babies who is talking away but not crawling yet by a year. I figure those are the best babies because they can tell you what they want but can’t go tumbling down the stairs yet. But I may have the opposite. My neighbour the lactation consultant, who has six kids of her own, warned me, “if he can stand now, he’ll probably be walking by the time he’s 10 months.”
Well, that’s just great. We haven’t even baby-proofed yet.
Luckily, lest we become overly proud of our herculean infant, our friends’ ever-honest four year old was quick to bring us down to Earth.
“He’s not THAT strong,” he said sullenly, staring at his Wii game dismissively. “He can’t LIFT anything.”
Thank heavens for small mercies!
Member of the Charles Atlas school for babies: a weakling, weighing under 12 pounds
