Reid Update: Two Years and Counting

(Incidentally, I'm thinking about redesigning the site again. There isn't really a major motivator for the redesign, other than this one is a little old. I do think, however, that the next template will be a wider design (1024 pixels wide, to be exact), though I'm not 100% certain how I'm going to pull this off.)



Coinciding with Reid's second birthday was Reid's two year doctor's appointment. It was full of good news and surprised medical professionals (which are always a lot of fun). Reid remains a baby version of tall and thin, though he's slightly less tall and slightly less thin that he once was. He weighs 26 pounds, 6 ounces, which is in the 32nd percentile for two year olds. He is 35 and 3/4 inches tall, which means he's basically a three-footer, which is easy to remember. Let's say three feet in sandals. This is in the 85th percentile for two year olds. And though I have no idea why this statistic continues to be gathered by doctors at this point, his head is 48.8 centimeters around, which is in the 70th percentile. Big head.



Reid's height has become a problem, of course, because he can now effortlessly browse in the drawers in our kitchen whose defenses are nil. The other day he went into the kitchen to get his milk and came out with the long-forgotten nose-stuff-extraction device, which was absent-mindedly placed in a drawer when his nose stopped producing so many terrible things. "Nose!" he shouted and ran around with the thing jammed up his nose. How are we supposed to deal with that?



Reid is a crazy sentence-talking fellow these days. He pieces things together from his long memory and shoots them out at you in the a babbling brook of words. He announced a Reid-translated chunk of text from "the Giving Tree" the other day while he was in his carseat. K and I were like, 'what was that?' It's all in there rattling around.



We're almost through our second week at our new school. The transition has been rocky. Reid was with Mendoza and the rest of the gang over there since he was four months old, and he became understandably attached. It was the chaos and the -- to sound stodgy -- bad influences over there troubled us as parents. But he loved everyone over there and Mendoza and her sister surely love Reid dearly as well.

At the new school, things are hard when I drop him off in the morning. I don't think he's insecure about much -- I've seen him leap from the side of a pool or the top of a ledge confident in the knowledge that someone will catch him -- but I think he resists change as we all do. According to his teachers, every day he is getting better -- that is recovering from the tears I see when I leave quicker. He is showing a few early signs of what we were hoping for: less hitting, less hysteria (brought on by cookies and other sugary stuff) in the afternoons, he is sleeping better and eating better. This is going to work out. Here's hoping, anyhow.