Love makes little things grow
At least, that's what I've learned that from
Clifford's puppy days. I thought it was a bunch of crap, because our little guy would be as big as a my sister's adorable chunkers if it was true. I'm rethinking my stance on that theory, because it's certainly not breastmilk that makes him grow.
Last week Howie was up 6 oz and a whole inch! That's the second month in a row he's gained weight and the first height he's gained since 8-9 months. The ped told Matt that we didn't need to take him in again until his 18 month appointment. It was Howie's catch phrase that got him out of the monthly weigh ins. He pointed at the wallpaper in the exam room and said, "there's a car." I guess speaking full sentences at 15 months is pretty good evidence that he's just small and not suffering developmentally.
So, what's different about the last month that might have finally caused him to grow? I started a new job. I've been gone in the evenings. Every night, Matt tells me how Howie eats a ton for dinner. I can't get that kid to eat for anything. To steal a phrase from Sabra- he plays Ghandi. Does the best damn impression I've ever seen. Maybe it's because there's an open milk bar when I'm around, or maybe he just doesn't like my cooking. The kid does have weird taste. This morning I got him to eat 4 bites of cream of wheat. The kicker is that I had made it an hour ago and it was completely cold and considerably rubbery. sick.
I think it might be time to wean, since he clearly eats more solids and grows when I'm not around to let him nurse all he wants. That's going to suck. The kid is a boob addict. Plus, I'm certain the immune system boost from breast feeding is the reason he's been so healthy. We're in the middle of fighting the first cold of his life. Really, he's not doing too bad considering that this week Tedi got prescibed antibiotics for the sinus infection she developed from this cold.
One last thought on love making little things grow. I was my mom's smallest baby and am now the tallest of all my sisters. That's an interesting point to ponder.
Time to get out of Utah
This morning Howie turned on The Price is Right. I didn't feel like switching it to PBS, so I left it on. I usually let him watch TV if he manages to get it turned on. I figure he worked for it, he earned it. I guess I need to reign that in now that the only effort required is reaching the remote.
It was background noise as I was cleaning the kitchen. I turned back to it just as some girl had won the bid to get up on stage. I thought she looked familiar, maybe a little like my friend Becky, but that could have been the red hair. Or maybe like my friend Cindy, except I just got an email from Cindy yesterday and she cut all her hair off (plus, it isn't red). The girl is finally up on stage and they show a close-up of her next to Bob. Her t-shirt was home-made and something about playing in Utah. Then it clicked. She's mormon. I called Matt up from the basement.
"It's time to get out of Utah."
"Why?"
"See that girl? I thought she looked familiar, but she's just from Utah. I can spot them from a mile away."
"Being from Utah doesn't mean she's mormon."
I'd like to disagree. I think it does. At least, being proud of living in Utah means she is. People who aren't LDS who live here don't like to broadcast it. So, what's the big deal? I'm LDS, too. Is being able to spot members in a crowd reason enough to move away? Probably not, but let's go back to last month when we got new neighbors.
Another neighbor had told me that the family moving in on my street was from her sister's neighborhood. She mentioned that they weren't mormon. We went to introduce ourselves a few days after they moved in. They have a little girl just a couple weeks younger than Howie. The first words out of my mouth when I learned that? "oh, they'll be in nursery together." Um, no- they aren't mormon. I just ignored that I had said that. I couldn't take it back. I couldn't ask if they were. I couldn't say "oh wait, Monica said you weren't." I kicked myself the whole way back to our house.
I hate that my mind automatically went there. I don't want to live my life assuming that everyone around me has the same beliefs. I certainly don't want to raise Howie in a place or in a way that he takes it for granted. The irony of it all? Matt is Lutheran, and yet I've been in Utah long enough that I assume all the world wears a ctr ring.
