We honestly have the craziest pediatrician on the planet, and we love him. He rewrites lyrics to popular songs and records them himself on his phone recording. He wears a “superhero utility belt” that looks suspiciously like a tool belt. He talks a million miles an hour and whistles to the girls if they get upset with the poking and prodding.
Anyway, we went for their 12-month well visit this morning, and he and I got to chatting about the inherent creativity required for making up good song lyrics. The SAHJ seems to think you have to sing the OFFICIAL song lyrics to every song ever written. Spoilsport.
So, as he’s checking the girls over, Dr. Ed tells us how he used to think “It’s Raining Men” was “It’s Raining Red”. He admitted that he didn’t know what it might mean, but as it was such a great song, he used to love to sing it at full volume in the office. His nurses were kind enough to correct him, and he now sings “Men” instead of “Red”. We both agreed, however, that when in the privacy of one’s home, all the lyrics are fair game. To be perfectly honest, I don’t even think they always have to rhyme.
But that’s another blog post for another day.
The girls are doing great, Bridey’s holding strong in the 50th percentile for weight and height (20lbs 15.5oz; 30″) and Marlowe’s up near the 80th percentile for weight (22lbs 11oz) and off the chart for height (31.5″). That’s my little carbon copy!
He was impressed that they were both walking, and not concerned at all that we’re not exactly chatting up a storm just yet. To be honest, I have yet to see Dr. Ed get concerned about anything at all. He’s pretty laid back, our pedi, and we wouldn’t have it any other way. When we told him both girls were learning to sign, Marlowe got a two minute lecture on learning her baseball signs, and how to make sure the cameras in center field couldn’t see what she was doing.
We survived a blood draw and three shots each, although our Snoopy bandaids did little to make us feel better. I’m so proud of my big, strong, healthy, smart little girls.
Now on to switching from formula to milk, and bottles to cups. Here goes nothing!