Pokey Pokey Bang Bang

My poor kid. Really.


We went for Littlest’s one year vaccinations a couple of weeks ago, and when they went to weigh him, he hadn’t gained any weight at all. They did a re-weigh, but with the same result. They thought it was a little odd, and suggested I go to his doctor for follow up. Same deal. People, he hasn’t gained more than an ounce in 3 months of stuffing his face. And this kid eats! Everything! Even if he hates it, he eats it. He seems fine. He’s got a good appetite, he’s a bit chubby, he drinks well but not too much. He’s moving and learning, interacting well. He’s the epitome of a normal little boy. So why no weight gain? Honestly, we have no idea. We got sent to the lab for tests, three to be exact. One for Celiac Disease, which can cause excessively slow weight gain in infants. Two for Juvenile Diabetes, which can cause weight loss symptoms in small children. Three for anemia. That may not seem like a lot to some people, but that scares the crap out of me. I mean, this is Littlest we’re talking about. Obviously, while all of those may be a possibility, it could also just be that he’s just really small for his age (there’s a reason the 5th percentile exists), or that he could be about to sprout in one big go, or that he’s putting all of his food energy into growing hair. He’s a bit bald. I’m trying not to be afraid, but the fact that he’s not immediately recognized as stellarly normal makes me nervous.


Anyway, the reason for me feeling bad is that we had to do the tests this morning, and while our hospital is good, the blood tests were awful. Likely that’s only because he’s so tiny, but I felt miserable for him nonetheless. The first vial they took, they had to use an arm vein, so in the needle went, wiggled around for a while, got the vein (finally…), filled the vial, lost the vein before they could do the second one. Littlest screamed his head off the whole time and I don’t blame him one bit. To get the next vial, they poked the other arm, wiggled around a while, couldn’t find the vein, and ended up doing a finger “prick” instead. Needless to say, Littlest did not find any of it amusing in the least. Thankfully, they figured that they got enough with the first vial to do all the tests, and didn’t attempt the last one. *insert big sad frownie face here* Now I just need this next week to be over so I can find out the results.


In other news, my poor other kid. Really.

I finally broke down and admitted that there was no way I could temper the testosterone, and instead, I went shopping for some toys that we could play with that would be breakable and obnoxious, but not drive me nuts. Presenting foam swords. I’ll admit, I may possibly have gotten into a sword fight with my husband after dinner. There’s no evidence though. I also found, at my mother’s suggestion, one of those giant sized weebles that you can punch out without breaking. That should help with some of the energy, right? (Well, it may end up being a learning curve, because the first thing Biggest did after punching it was to pick it up and start swinging it like a bat. Once he was directed to something other than swinging it, he thought it best to drop it on Littlest instead.) Other finds included an indoor soccer ball, and a set of miniature hockey sticks. I also looked up some boy friendly crafts, and found a thing called “sensory bins”. Basically a big fancy name for a bucket of rice, lentils, beans, sand, “cloud dough”, beads, or jello. Messy? Heck yeah. So I did the practical thing, along with some prodding from the sensible Mommies that I got the idea from, and got a big plastic tablecloth to put underneath. Maybe it’ll stop the dinner time phenomenon of banging on the table and making a huge mess with the food. I doubt it, but one can hope right? Lastly, I bought Nerf-style guns.

Before you judge, my Daddy hunts, and according to many people, teaching children to hunt provides many life skills, including respect, discipline, and patience, as well as an appreciation for the cycle of life (respect and appreciation for life itself being part of that). If hunting is taught properly, there is also a conservation aspect to learn as well. In that essence, I am not letting my child run around pointing guns at people. I am going to teach him the hand-eye coordination to hit a target, and when he’s a little older, I will pass him on to my dad to learn the rest of hunting as I’ve outlined. In that vein, Biggest and I will be doing target practice only, at which point, he will be appropriately supervised and taught proper safety protocols. It may be lofty, but I’m optimistic.


That being said, after everyone was asleep last night, my sister and I may or may not have had a movie-style showdown in the kitchen. Again, no evidence.


Anyhow, that’s the update for this weekend, I’ll keep you posted.

The Handler.


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