18 Month Stats

Alternate Title: “Large and in Charge!”

I took Graham for his 18-month well visit to the doctor today. It’s a funny thing to have him walk into the doctor’s office of his own accord, look up at the receptionist, wave and say, “Hi.” How far we’ve come in a year-and-a-half!

Graham has crafted a way to use his limited vocabulary to really get across what he wants to tell us. Today was no exception. We got to the exam room, and the [very sweet] nurse said, “Okay, mom, you can start taking off all his clothes.” Graham stuck his hand over my shoulder, in the nurse’s face, waved it and said, “Bye.”

Any time the nurse did anything to him… hand-in-face. “Bye.” Just matter-of-fact. See you later. We are parting ways now.

When Dr. G came into the room, Graham’s brave face went on. (This is the face with the stuck out lower lip, welled eyes, and an I’m trying really hard not to cry right now look.) I don’t know why, but Dr. G freaks him out a little. Today, I could tell Graham had matured since the last time we’d visited merely because he calmed down when Dr. G and I reassured him.

That is, until the stethoscope came out and Dr. G started to actually touch him. But was it tears and drama? No. Clearly, because I was not playing my usual role of the bad guy in this particular act. Tears and drama are saved almost expressly for his mother.

No, when the stethoscope touched his back, Graham curled into my side. Already straddling my hip, he squeezed his eyes shut, tucked in his chin, and rested his forehead on my shoulder. Hiding. The stethoscope kept moving across his back, waiting for Graham to intermittently give up breaths (since he was holding his breath to try and will the doctor away.) After a few movements of the stethoscope, Graham said, in the tiniest voice – eyes still shut to the world, “Leh go.”

Let go. Such a tiny request for that whole thing to be over.

Ahh, but after all the look-see’s, Graham came around. Dr. G wasn’t so bad, after all.

After the doctor, a nurse came around to do a finger prick hemoglobin test for anemia. No shots this time, just the finger stick. You know what? No tears. Graham was too busy responding to the nurse’s inquiries as to “What the doggy says” and “What do cows say?” that he had no idea she was collecting blood. She was genius, and he passed the instant-read test with flying colors. So we’ve all got that going for us.

After the checkup was over, Graham walked down the hall out of the exam room to the check-out desk, enamored with his Spider-Man band-aid. He asked for a sticker to pass the time while we made our next appointment – for his 2-year checkup. Of course, Graham is 1, so the sticker’s fate was essentially to be looked at and then crumpled up to an unrecognizable state. And, since my son is compulsively tidy, he wanted to put the crumpled up sticker back in the bin with the rest of the stickers. He almost had a fit when I told him no – that no one wanted a sticker that had been wadded out of its will to live. Just like that, he initiated the official countdown to nuclear because CLEARLY THAT IS WHERE THE STICKERS GO, MOTHER. Thankfully I know how to trigger the failsafe button, which is essentially opening any door and saying, “Time to go outside!”

Graham returned to his normal color, smiled and said, “OUT-shide!” and off we went.

And so, his stats at 18 months:

Weight = 27 lbs, 10 oz (75 %ile)
Height = 33.5 inches (80-90 %ile)
Head = 19.3 cm (ahem, 90 %ile… still)

Still a tall kid.  And if you’re on Facebook and know how I was freaking out at skipping a shoe size, it’s now all making perfect sense!


  1. The ‘let go’ comment breaks my

  2. Breaks my heart (iPad glitch…sorry)! It must have been so hard for him to get those words out, poor little pumpkin…I feel for these little guys.

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