This week I took my first born for his 15 year old physical. I love the kids' checkups. I love when they get weighed and measured and the doctor tells them to stay away from soda and eat more vegetables and go to sleep early on Sunday nights to catch up on their rest.
And I love seeing this.
My son used to fit on that scale. Whenever I'm in the office, I stare at the scale in disbelief. How did that silly baby waving his legs in the air as they weighed him turn into the young man with size eleven shoes?
In the first year of your baby's life, you have checkups every 3 months. My sister and I would get so excited for these checkups. Mired in a routine of sleepless nights, nursing, and cranky nap times, we would look forward to these visits as a big day out. We would call each other up and talk about what we were going to wear, including a full face of makeup. It felt so great to be at the doctor for a fun reason - instead of fever or a cough that kept you up all night - so getting nicely dressed was a good way to celebrate that.
Yesterday my son stood on the regular scale. He was 5'11 and 147 pounds. I wore red capris and a partial face of makeup. Afterward, he helped me return some things at Ikea. When we got home he was starving, so he made a huge batch of pancakes for he and his brother for lunch. He put a jalapeno pepper in one of them and declared it delicious.
Growing up is weird and wonderful.