If you read my last post, you know about my emotional reservations regarding Preston getting physically bigger. As it turns out, I don't have much to worry about. Since birth, he's gained a mere 13 pounds and has grown only 9 inches. According to the pediatrician, P'Dub is in the 10th percentile. This means, height and weight-wise, he's only bigger than 1 in 10 kids. But he's thriving otherwise – and his melon is topping the charts in the 75th to 90th percentile. Go brain!
So for now, he's little and cute. When Preston gets older and kids start picking him last in gym class and stuffing him in lockers in the hallway, it won't be so cute. There's nothing to worry about medically; he's little just as I was at his age. And you all know that currently I'm nowhere near the 10th percentile!
The pediatrician also alerted me to a couple other things. For instance, out with the formula and in with the whole milk. And not in a bottle...only in a cup. In fact, there should be no more bottles, except at night. And even the night bottles need eliminated by 15 months.
Holy crackers! Am I ready for this? Am I ready for no bottles? P'Dub is currently on the three bottle plan: morning, afternoon and bedtime (with solid foods inbetween). Knocking out the first two bottles won't be a problem. The night bottle will be the issue – at least for me anyhow.
I love rocking Preston in his nursery, listening to his Baby Einstein lullaby cd, cuddling, talking softly and giving him his bottle. It's soothing for both parties involved. But within the next three months I have to wean both of us. This is going to suck.
Another eye opener from the pediatrician: Out with the baby food. Say what? I'm solely responsible for his nutrition? I kind of liked it when Similac and Gerber took care of it. Besides, I can barely come up with dinner ideas for Jeremy, and now I've got three square meals and two snacks to provide daily!!! I'm doomed. Or, rather Preston is doomed.
The reality of Preston growing up is hitting me hard. It's truly bitter-sweet. It seems to me that as P'Dub gets older, there is always going to be something he'll grow out of that I'll miss (and I don't mean an outfit), and always something he's growing into that will be exciting. Like the bottles. I'll miss them. But I'm looking forward to the day he uses his own spoon.