Straight From the Bottle

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  • An Update on the Huge Head Incident of '09

     

    I just realized I have yet to divulge the information gathered at Fable's "head-check" last week during which she was weighed, measured and re-measured my make sure she didn't need further tests for having an abnormally large head. It turns out that because her length and weight were equally as off the charts as her head size she was well-proportioned and no cause for concern, which "duh" of course she was but it left me wondering what would have happened if it wasn't? Tests? Cat-scans? Helmets? Me being worried for (most likely) no reason?

     

    Drooling Closet Day 8

    Fable Luella: 8 months and 23 pounds of pure gorgeous perfection.

     

    The various charts and graphs and "this is normal" vs. "this is abnormal" make me feel poopy in the tummy. Anxious. Annoyed. Uncomfortable. Worried. Even angry. I realize the importance of taking measurements and weighing our babies but the whole "off the charts," "below average," "you should worry because your child is too small or too big or too this or too that etc" can be enough to give a parent a complex for life. 

     

    With Archer it had little to do with physical attributes (he was always tall but never off the charts). He was a late bloomer from the get. Crawling at 13 months and walking at 17 months, which was "slightly worrisome" to the pediatrician. It wasn't until we went in for his two-year-check-up that our doctor handed us red flags and told us to start waving them. He wasn't talking yet. Not even a little bit. He was late. He needed help. It was time to have him tested. So we did. Specialists and therapists and early interventionists OH MY! 

     

    Archer was fine, of course. He was just late to talk. Late to walk. Late to everything. He was a late bloomer who blossomed beautifully on his own in due time and yet two of his four years of life were spent under the eyes and ears of doctors and family members who "worried" about him...

     

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  • Off the Charts

    Last week Fable had her six-month check-up/check-in and immunization appointment. We hadn't been the Pediatrician in three plus months so had no idea at what rate she was growing, although if her clothes were any indication (which obviously they were) she was growing.

     

    Like a pretty little weed, was she. 

     

    Fable on the porch

    Pretty weeds doth groweth from their highchairs on the porch.  

     

    At six-months Fable was wearing 12-18month-sized-onesies and 2T dresses and pants. She was/still is huge. If it wasn't for the baldness she would surely be mistaken for a Preschool-sized child.

     

    And her thighs? Oh lordy, her thighs: best, most amazing things to ever happen to this PLANET, they are.

     

    hello, thighs

     

    We were caught aback by her spurt. She was born on the petite to average side. 18 1/2 20 inches long*, 7 pounds 4oz so we figured she'd stay there.

     

    Archer was always on the tall side but skinny. At six-months of age he wore six-month-sized onesies and although his head was on the larger side, everything else about him was normal-sized, average, your garden-variety-no-cause-for-alarm baby measurements.

     

    So when we took Fable to the Pediatrician last week and watched the nurses eyes go wide after measuring her for height and weight (20 pounds EVEN = whoaaaa Nelly!) and then head circumference we were kinda like, "wtf? Why are you looking at us like that?" 

     

    "She's huge!" they said. "She was so petite and now she's HUGE!"

     

    "Yeah, we know. My family's really tall," I said.

     

    Which was true. I'm by far the shortest person in my family, standing at 5'8. My sister and mother tower above me and my father towers above them and my brother? Is basketball player tall. How's the weather up there tall. TALL. 

     

    "Sure they are," the nurses nodded, eyeing Hal and I suspiciously (Hal is also 5'8, not so much examples of off-the-chartism either of us.)

     

    Soon after being lead into our private little room, Fable's doctor appeared with a smile and a spool of measuring tape, insisting on measuring Fable's head once again. 

     

    "Hmm," she said. "Hmmm."

     

    "Her head is big because she's a GENIUS, Doctor," I said. 

     

    "It IS very large," she said. "Off the charts, large." 

     

    She then handed us a chart that showed Fable's height (95%) and weight (96%) for her age which although considered "off the charts" was quite "on the charts" compared to her head which measured so large it held no percentile. 

     

    Instead? A greater than sign with a circle around it. 

     

    (>)


    Madame Fable Doll

    fable > perfection, she is

     

    "Her head is so large there is no percentile for it," the pediatrician explained. "Large heads may just run in your family. Archer's head was quite large at this age as well but nothing like this. Do you mind if I take some measurements of your heads?"

     

    "Of course not! Measure away!"

     

    She went on to measure Hal and my heads which were both larger than the average bear. Hal's head was a whopping five centimeters above average, which impressed the doctor enough to agree to see us in a few weeks, instead of sending Fable in for large-head-tests right then and there.

     

    "Just want to make sure her head stops growing so exponentially fast is all," our doctor explained.  "In case, you know, problems..."

     

    "Uh.... okay." Hal and I responded, totally wtf'ed out...

     

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About the Blogger

rebecca woolf

Rebecca Woolf in LA

Who says becoming a mom means succumbing to laser tattoo removal and moving to the suburbs? This young writer and mother of two gives it to you Straight From the Bottle.

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