booze, biscuits, and bassinets: If this is a test...I'm failing

Let me reiterate that I’m just slightly competitive and maybe a little bit of an overachiever (pause while every person that knows me makes a smart comment). I will admit that I am one of those lucky ones that loves reading and learning. It’s really no surprise that I became an accountant. In graduate school, we kind of made it a habit to go to the bar after a test. TJ REFUSED to meet me at the bar unless we’d already been there for a while. Why? Because apparently we would just discuss the test and answers to figure out what our grade was and where we would stand in the class. Ugggh. Geeks.

So how does this natural affinity for numbers and competitiveness translate to yet another issue to keep me up at night? Percentiles. Why in the name of all that is good and holy in this world would doctors rate children on percentiles? It’s not like we don’t already have enough on our minds. When will he sleep through the night? Is he getting enough to eat? Should I keep breastfeeding or is switching to formula ok? Is his head a funny shape? When will he giggle? Does he not think I’m funny? The list goes on and on.

My darling sister isn’t helping me with this issue either. She and my brother-in-law have produced giants of children. This is pure karma for every time I’ve said in a superior tone, “they are in the 100^th percentile.” I didn’t realize how seriously everyone (ok…maybe just me) takes those ratings. Also, in my experience 100 is the best you can get. That’s what you are going for. That’s an ‘A.’ Keep in mind that I believe that a ‘C’ is a failing grade. TJ tried to tell me that a ‘C’ is average and you should be happy to be middle of the pack. I just stared at him and in disbelief. Did I really marry a man that believes this? Does he think that all kids should get a participation ribbon at field day too? [Phew. He doesn’t believe in participation ribbons. Thank goodness my 1^st Place Ribbon in the 3-legged race is still valid.]

You can imagine my horror when I was given Tilmon Edward’s stats for his two week old appointment.

· Height: 20.5 inches (42%)

· Weight: 7 lbs 13 ounces (32%)

· Head: 37.1 cm (83%)

No! He’s failing! The pediatrician and my husband spent the next 30 minutes calming me down. He assured me that our baby was healthy and there was no need to feed him every hour on the hour just to “plump” him up. Then why put the percentiles if there’s nothing I can do? Is it just to taunt me that there are 58 other kids that are taller than my son? Fine. Whatever. So he’s not going to the tallest or the biggest kid, but he does have the world’s scariest mother so don’t even think about bullying him. I’m not afraid to make a kid cry.

Nolan 10 years old (back left): 100th Percentile in height