Sometimes you just have to brag

This past week I had a small melt-down. The closer I get to having the baby the more moody, snappy, and tired I feel. At the end of the day when I think of my interactions with the boys I feel depressed and feel like a terrible mother. Mike had to calm me down and reassure me that it's OK to cry and it's normal pregnant lady behavior (but is it really?). So I decided to write this post for myself so I could remind myself that I am not a bad mom after all.

Yesterday I had to take the boys in for their well-baby check-ups, Will for his three year old check-up and Ike for his 18 month check-up even though it is two months later. I was happy to know that Will is finally in the 50th percentile for both weight and height and that Isaac is finally on the charts--he is in the 3rd percentile for weight, weighing in at a hefty 23 lbs and 5th percentile for height. The doctor asked if my husband was a "late bloomer" when he was little.

When Will went in for his 18 month check-up his doctor asked questions about how many words he was saying and I hadn't actually ever paid attention to the amount of words he knew. I expected her to ask the same question about Isaac so I sat down and wrote all the words down that he knows. I could think of 21 words off the top of my head that he knows without any help and then a handful he can say with prompting. He also can do all his animal sounds. She ended up not asking anything about his speech so the list I made was pointless except for my own personal interest.

Mike later asked how many he should know by two years and I didn't have any idea. So I pulled out my trusty child encyclopedia. It's one of those "your child through five years" books. Anyway, I read all the stuff my boys should know by the end of two and three years and discovered that my boys are either smart little cookies or their mom isn't so bad after all. Of course they can't do all the things listed; Will can't hop on one foot for five seconds. He can't draw a square, he's not great at catching a moving ball, and his drawing of people looks more like a circle with scribbles wherever the body parts go. Isaac doesn't sort by shape and color, he doesn't really do make-believe play yet, and he is terrible on the stairs! So no, my boys are not perfect....but almost.

So, when I put the book down and turned off the light for bed I fell asleep happy to know that my boys are healthy and smart and I think part of that might have something to do with me.