The last few weeks I’ve been thinking a lot about how quickly the last 10 months have gone. He’s hardly even a baby anymore. Except for the whole still being a baby thing……or some sort of evil creature.
Some new things happening in the life of Max: Swim class! Man, he loves swim class. I think it’s safe to say that he’s the loudest, and simply the most vocal in class. Then there’s all the crawling. This guy is fast, useful as far as cleaning goes. I don’t sweep nearly as often as I should, but I’m considering attaching Swiffers to him to get the job done. And let’s not forget the pulling up. He’s like a little monkey climbing all over everything and getting himself up onto his knees, and as of this very morning getting up on his feet. He’ll be running away from me screaming in Target in no time.
Last month I mentioned his visit to the pediatrician and how he was concerned about the lack of weight gain in the boy. Since then I’ve started taking fenugreek, and drinking Mother’s Milk tea (which tastes like 4 day old diapers), both of which have totally worked. Which is great because Max hated the formula, and goat’s milk we tried giving him. So, I took him into see the doctor on Thursday, and while he’s gained some weight, he’s still just above the 50th percentile. He’s eating solid foods like it’s his job, and he still nurses more frequently then most babies his age do, so I know he’s getting the nutrition he needs. The Dr. mentioned that some babies will do this and it’s just them ‘evening out’. Basically, he’s fine. He did gain a little bit in the last month, but he is now hovering just above the 50th percentile, when he’s typically above the 90th. He’s hitting all the milestones on time, so needless to say we’re not too concerned, and neither is his doctor. He’s a perfectly healthy, growing monster.
In just two short months he’ll be one year old. I’m planning a really fabulous party, with a performance by my friends hodge-podge band, crafty-homemade decorations, and a homemade cake. It’s probably going to be ridiculously huge, and completely over the top for a one year old, but I don’t care. It’s more for Rob and I for realsies. It’s like a reward, a ‘Congratulations! You did it!’ type of thing. I feel like I should get a friggin’ metal for surviving my first year of parenthood. But I’ll accept a party instead.