Devin's Journal

Devin had his 18 month checkup today with Dr. Jain. He is 32.4 inches (50th percentile) and weighs 25 lbs 5.5 oz (41st percentile). He's Mr. Middle O' The Road (which suites his mellow, laid back little self).

Today's focus was, as I expected, on his verbal development (or, rather, his lack thereof). The boy just doesn't talk much and by now he should be. We are not worried about it and neither is Dr. Jain but we are going ahead with having his hearing tested and we were also referred to Alta Regional for a speech evaluation. Cognitively, he seems just fine but we would rather play it safe and get the help he needs (if he needs it) sooner rather than later.

We've also been trying to help our shy little one to come out of his shell a bit. Last weekend I took him back to My Gym. I participated in their test program for babies back when he was teensy and I took him back again about 4 months ago. He hated it. He cried the entire time, tried to climb me like a tree, and ended up melting into a tiny puddle of woe before I carted his sobbing little diapered behind outta there. I was fully expecting more of the same last weekend but he did much better. He only cried once and he (sorta) participated in most of the activities. His favorite things: hiding from everyone in the ball pit and swinging on the Winnie-the-Pooh swing. A huge improvement.

I caught a bit of flack because he's still drinking from a bottle. That's right. I have FAILED weening 101. I also have not cut his hair yet. Do you see a pattern? No? Let me make it clear: all the things that make him seem more baby than toddler or (EEEEEP!) little boy are things to which I find myself reluctant to change. When I look at my little one's messy curls as he clutches his bottle I can imagine that I still have a baby. If I cut those curls off and give him a sippy cup he will suddenly be enrolling for college. See? Simple math.

Posted by michelle at 09:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Devin is hilarious. He knows exactly how to crack up all the adults in his life. He has little games and inside jokes with each one of us and he never fails to make us smile and laugh.

He remains very shy, though. He creates very close bonds with those he knows well and if someone he doesn't know so much as makes eye contact with him he is apt to crumble into tears and attempt to climb directly into the chest of the closest known adult.

This means the talking thing is still slow going. He says "this" when he is asking you what something is. He says "that" to indicate that he wants something. He can say "eat" (and do an accompanying sign with it that is sort of a combo of "help" and "more"). He says "juice" but it indicates any beverage. He says "shoes" pretty well. He has been known to say "cracker" but it is rare. He says "outside" and "hi" and "mama" and "dee" (daddy) and "Dax".

He says none of these things consistently. Why? My thought is that he simply doesn't wanna. I don't think there's any issue at hand because he understands everything we say and he manages to communicate in his own shy little martian baby manner. But we will talk to his pediatrician about it at the end of this month when he has his 18 month appointment (and by when he should use about 20 words).

Devin is at "THAT AGE". No, not the age by when the Terrible Twos start to develop (although, come to think of it, he has been practicing fit pitching lately). He's at the age where people feel it is ok to ask if we are going to have another baby. Seems like when your baby starts edging toward 2 years old people start to ask.

For the record, I am having so much fun with my two boys that the answer to that would be a resounding yes if not for the fact that I have fertility issues and I just turned 39. You are reading this correctly. I would absolutely want a third child if I did not think the effort would be beyond difficult and heartbreaking and unlikely to result in pregnancy.

My sweet baby Dev woke up very early on my 39th birthday. I think his gums were bugging him. So he and I sat together in the dark living room, snuggling and listening to the train's whistle off in the distance. I was tired but I felt so blessed to be up at that ungodly hour with a child who wasn't even supposed to be possible. When Cat and I were trying to get pregnant the second time a fertility specialist actually told us that the only way we'd have another is if we spent thousands of dollars taking a chance on IVF with ICSI. We did not take up that advice. And yet, here he is. My little miracle boy.

Do I want another one? You bet I do. Wanting and having are two entirely different things, though.

Posted by michelle at 08:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)