His head, that is. Arlo went to the doctor today for his 2-year-old check-up--since that's what he is now, a 2-year-old---and he got rave reviews from all the critics.
Head circumference: 97th percentile
Height (3 feet): 90th percentile
Weight (29.5 lbs.): 75th percentile
Basically, his proportions make him sort of like a bowling ball perched on top of a broomstick. Or maybe a hot dog. He's not a total stringbean, but he's definitely more tall than he is broad. Hmmmm, come to think of it, that makes him something of a Ted In Miniature. Tell me something I didn't know.
The child is apparently a shining example of health, and the only thing Dr. Thomas had to say with even a shadow of negativity was that I really need to get his blood tested for lead, seeing as how we lived in a 1920s bungalow when he was a baby, and we've never had him tested just to be sure. She's been telling me to take him in for this blood test for at least a year. So--even though it meant I had to take another hour off from work and go to a different clinic location altogether--I finally did it.
Here's what blew me away and prompted a friend to refer to Arlo as "supernatural."
Arlo didn't cry. Not even a whimper.
He sat in my lap, and I held his arm straight as he proceeded to not squirm. He watched as they tied the tourniquet around his doughy little arm. He watched as they put the needle in his vein, and he watched the blood come out of his arm, through an itty-bitty tube, and into a vial. The phlebotomist was efficient and quick, and Arlo got a blue crayon-shaped Band-aid when all was said and done. As I oohed and aaahed over what a good boy! he had been, he simply folded his hands together, and looked up earnestly at the phlebotomist who had drawn his blood.
"Sticker?" he said. "Please?"
You may send condolences to Ted at our home address because I think I died from sheer pride when he said that. Thanks for playing, all you other parents! I officially have living in my home the Greatest Kid on the Planet.