Adam had his 2 year checkup today. He now weighs 26 pounds and is 33 inches tall. This means instead of calling him a two-foot terror, I should probably change it to the almost-three-foot terror.

At his 18 month checkup in February he weighed just under 23 pounds and was 30 inches tall. He’s gone from the 5th percentile for height to the 10th, and from the 10th percentile for weight to the 25th. That’s some good growing right there. The doctor estimated his head to be in the 75th percentile now – down from the 90-95th last time. So he’s growing in to that big brain of his.

The poor kid got one shot today and also had to have blood-work done. Now this is one of the reasons that Dave tries to go to all the boys’ doctor’s appointments. If our children are going to associate one of us with holding them down while mean nurses and lab techs jab them with needles and make them cry, I want it to be Dave.

It has nothing to do with my longtime fear of needles and tendency to faint while getting shots (to my own credit, this hasn’t happened in like three years – I’ve gotten better with each pregnancy – lots of practice).

So normally Dave will handle the needles and I will take over after with the soothing and cuddling. It’s a good system. Today though, Adam decided he only wanted mama. So that’s how I found myself pinning Adam’s shoulders down so he could get a vaccine and a Bugs Bunny band-aid. And then minutes later in the lab Adam sat on my lap and screamed while the tech filed a vial with my poor baby’s blood. I actually watched that one because she had a tough time finding a vein and had to wriggle the needle around. Adam did not like that one bit (and neither did I).

But you know what?

I didn’t pass out.

And you know what else?

It totally sucked.

Dave can have that job back.

(Sorry mom for using “sucked” in that context; I know you don’t like that word. It really did suck though.)