On Friday Alexis finally had her three-year doctor's appointment, and I learned something I had suspected--she's no longer REALLY tall for her age. The kid was born tall and then stayed in or above the 95th percentile for height and weight right up until her 2nd birthday when she slipped a little ways, down to the 75th percentile. This year, however, she slipped even further. She is now in the 50th percentile.

For some bizarre reason that I can't even begin to explain, hearing that was like someone took away a bunch of my Good Mommy Gold Stars. Had I not fed her right? Should I have forced her to eat less salad and more potatoes? Should I have insisted she drink two cups of milk instead of just one? Would she be taller if I made her drink juice instead of water?

Stupid, I know. Ridiculous, even.

You don't have to tell me height can't be controlled. You don't have to tell me it doesn't matter ONE IOTA. I know. I also know I was one of the shortest kids in my class in 4th grade, but came back after summer break to be the tallest girl in 5th grade. Mr. Husband is 6' 2" and I am 5' 8", so odds are Alexis will be tall. And if she's not? WHO CARES?

Gah!

I need my head checked for even giving Alexis' height a moment of thought. It's ridiculous.

But.

It has dawned on me that since the kid STILL doesn't have much hair, and she's no longer a giant for her age, I should be able to get by with calling her "2 and under" a little bit longer.

That might just come in handy from time-to-time. *ahem*