[Please excuse the following pity party, I just really needed to get this off my chest.] This stomach bug that Spencer has is kicking. my. behind. We haven't done anything "fun" in 16 days now. We've barely even gotten out of the house together. Yes, we celebrated New Years... but that was pretty much it. Normally we have Gym*boree 2-3 times a week, plus a playdate or two and at least one trip to the park/library/fun stores... I'm going stir crazy. (And so is S... we need some new toys/games... but that is tomorrow's post) I'm so bored that I do stupid things like weigh my son. I should know better. We're on day 16 of the "bug." Of course he's going to weigh less. What I did not expect was that he was going to weigh the same as what he weighed in September. That means he's under 18 pounds now (at 19 months). Gulp.
It's going to come as no surprise to a lot of you that I'm sensitive about his weight to begin with. This does not help. Now some of it is related to his medical history. Some of it is related to silly things like the fact that I really want to turn his d@mn car seat around (and I can't until he's 22 pounds which he probably won't hit until he's 2. And yes, I have considered buying a different car seat.) Some of it has to do with being a string bean myself in elementary school (and of course my name rhymed with "bean"). But most of my sensitivity is due to the feeling that I could be doing better. I feel as though I am doing something wrong. Not feeding him enough (although I see what he eats in comparison to other kids and I think we're fine) I feel like I'm not feeding him well enough (although again I feel like I am... except for the days where he only eats noodles and goldfish crackers). Something. I just feel like I'm not doing something right.
Now, let me be clear... if he grows up to be 4'10" and 95 pounds, I won't care. Believe me. He's still going to be an amazing person. And have a personality to match. So it's not about having the tiny kid. I've talked to the doctor at length. There's nothing wrong. He's healthy. That's all I care about. I just feel like I'm not doing my job some days. I need to get over that though... cause really, we know he's not lacking in the physical ability. He's ridiculously agile and strong. Just tiny. I don't even realize how tiny he is unless we're at places like Gym*boree and every other kid looks like the Hulk in comparison. (Although I will proudly tell you he's by far the most physically advanced in one of his classes.) I know that every kid is different. I get that. I just feel like my kid is *always* the smallest by far and c'mon... it's human nature to compare. We all do it. At this age what else is there to compare besides the basics?! I just need to stop. I love that he's my pint of peanuts... he's the perfect Spencer-size... but some days the guilt and self-doubt wiggle in and today is one of those days. I shouldn't have weighed him. I knew that, but I did anyway... and now all of you have to hear it.
[And I should also say that I'll do my absolute best to make sure he's completely comfortable with his size, whatever it may be. He doesn't lack confidence, that's for sure! So I'm not concerned about how he will handle it, but it is one of the reasons I'm working so hard now to change how *I* feel about it. And how I react to all the comments of "oh, he's so tineeeee."]
Part of me feels I shouldn't publish this, but I'm going to. Mostly because I want to hear from the parents of other tiny kids. Please tell me that I'm not the only mama who has a kid that's not even in sight of the infamous "growth curve." Give me some ideas as to what I can tell myself when the self-doubt is rearing it's head again. I just ask that you don't chastise me for feeling this way.
Now, a cute i*phone photo for reading all of that. (This is for you, Sue H.) I grabbed this after Spencer had arranged the two metal tables (I stacked them like that, they just didn't reside so close to the wall...) and put his step stool on top as he attempted a break out. He cleared it. Sigh.