Friday afternoon we had Mac’s 15 month well-baby check up.
Now if you recall, I adore our physician but she also fills me with well. . .terror.
Long story short, the Doc had been in a snit the past few visits because Mac wasn’t gaining any weight. I vehemently contended he WAS eating A LOT. He just didn’t love fattier foods all that much. Her response was to fatten him up at nearly any cost.
I did understand her concerns. Children need a certain amount of fat to ensure proper growth and development. . .
So we attempted full fat yogurt (which he will only consider eating if you allow him to stand in front of the open freezer while spooning it into his mouth. I. Am. Serious. Who knows why?), Instant breakfast mixed in his milk. . .ice cream, buttered vegetables. . .
Nothing seemed to be appealing to him. . .
And I was starting to freak a little bit. . .
And that’s when I discovered Mac’s kryptonite: Cheese omelette, fried in butter plus a side of 2 slices of bacon. Every. Damned. Morning.
Then I discovered another magical trick: homemade, full fat Ranch dressing. Sure, he loved cucumbers before. . .now it’s like he has a full-blown crack habit.
He was eating. . .still well. . .still balanced meals but I was finding ways to sneak in more fat. And I felt good about it. . .but I wasn’t sure he was actually gaining weight. His clothes fit and we were still using the same snaps on the diapers. . .
I just wasn’t sure.
So it was with a little fear and much trepidation that we entered the Doc’s office last Friday afternoon.
We went through the usual weights and measures and temperature readings. Then we waited in the nearly noiseless vacuum of the examination room. My stomach was doing back flips as I read Mac One Fish, Two Fish.
Right on time (love that!) our petite little powerhouse of a Pediatrician came blazing into the room. Sure she looks unassuming in her sensible shoes and cute cardigan, softly curled hair. . .But I KNEW better.
And I mentally prepared myself. . .I KNEW how much he was eating every day. I had been keeping tabs for the past few days. I was ready.
So of course she happily proclaimed she was thrilled with the pound and a half he gained in the past month!
What the hell? There would be no red-faced, stammering, feeling like a failure of a parent on my part?!
Was that disappointment I felt while she lauded our efforts to fatten up the little prince?
Um not exactly. . .
I think it might have been GUILT.
What the Doc didn’t know was the kid hadn’t pooped in nearly two days.
And I felt more than a little certain he probably was full of at least 3/4 of a pound of it at weigh in. . .
But that’s going to be our little secret um-kay?