My little Chunky Monkey
Ok. I knew Emily was a little big for her age. It’s pretty obvious by now that she and her brother have taken after Chris in the height department (thank goodness!) But, dude, I wasn’t quite prepared for today.
34 3/4 pounds and 36 1/2 inches.
Doesn’t sound too bad? She’s two. That puts her at 95th percentile for height, and about 115th for weight. **115th!!!** Yikes.
The kid loves to eat. I don’t really feel as if she OVEReats, she just eats. And she eats well; not alot of junk food. She loves salads, vegetables and fruits. She’s addicted to dairy, namely cheese. And while, yes, she’d eat any candy put in front of her, a lot doesn’t really get put in front of her. Now that she’s two, we cut her milk down to 2% instead of whole, so that should help. She just grew, quite literally, overnight.
So why the heck I’m I freaking over this?
Seriously, I wanna cry. I’m SO terrified that my children, especially Emily since she’s a girl, will have the same weight problems that I’ve had all my life. Getting teased. The whole nine yards. Dude, I got picked on for being overweight when I only weighed 120 pounds. I’d KILL to weigh that now. Kids are mean. And I’m positively terrified that my kids may go through that someday. I constantly worry that they won’t be cool kids (but still with good heads on their shoulders). I hate worrying about such things. I know she’s only two, that it will probably even out in the next few months, that her height will catch up with her weight and she’ll slim back down again, that her clothes will fit just fine.
But I worry.
