Monster Attack

Nolah's been taking some steps on her own and has her very first shiner to show for it. It happened this week at my parent's house, and involved the corner of a coffee table - ouch! Eli has some more minor injuries - a couple mosquito bites and a random scratch. He has claimed that his "boo boos" are due to shark bites, crab pinchers, and a monster attack. Interesting. In other news, both kids had their Well Child appointments last week. They're healthy enough - Nolah weighing in at the 85th percentile and Eli's height down in the 11th (I've been asked twice now if they're twins). And even though the 11th percentile is really not much deviated from the average than the 85th, the doctor is a little concerned that Eli hasn't really grown much at all in the past 6 months. So he's earned himself a referral to a pediatric nutritionist and endocrinologist at U of M. It's not something I like to discuss because, even though my conscience is clear, there are people in my life to love to assign blame at the slightest health issue that any child faces. The following are assertions I've heard in the past two years: My good friend's child had colic because she didn't gain enough weight during her pregnancy; a relatives child did not roll over very soon because the parents didn't play with her enough; another relative's child doesn't speak very well because the parents probably don't make him speak; yet another relative's child doesn't sleep well at night because the mother doesn't let the baby sleep. I've also been questioned in a very accusatory tone why one of my babies suffered from infant acne and have heard from more than one person that autism is caused by a lack of discipline from the parents (God help me if I ever have a child with such a diagnosis...it'll clearly be my fault in the eyes of some people in my life). While I know that all of the above accusations are complete garbage, I really don't think it's helpful to mother's for people to be walking around saying such things. Neither of my kids were very fussy babies, but I've been told multiple times when they were crying that it was "because of my stress." Anyways, I digress. The plan is to keep Eli on a high calorie diet for the next month to see how he does, growth-wise. (I'm so jealous!) So he's been getting the once forbidden doughnuts and ice cream before bed. Erich came home from Kroger tonight, excited that somebody had stopped him to start gasping (Erich's words) about how "beautiful" his son is. I told him that I get that all the time - the blonde curls and big green eyes are just precious. And I'm not biased at all :) But what I'm most proud of tonight is that Erich told me that my meatloaf pie is the best thing he's tasted in years. Do I sound like a mid-western housewife??? No seriously, I've been reading the book called "Mennonite in a Little Black Dress." It's a memoir which is not my favorite, but a decent read, in which the author refers to herself as a "mid-life foodie" and contemplates writing a cookbook. It occurred to me that I never pick up a cookbook anymore, and derive great pleasure from inventing my own recipes (it's the little things when you have a 2 year old and a 10 month old). So whatever happens with my job, which is still kinda in limbo, I can always derive happiness in strangers telling me that my kids are beautiful and find my creative outlet in cooking dinner, just as a mid-western-stay-at-home-mom should. I know it's a ridiculous stereotype, but I really think they're on to something.