Charlie turned 18 months old on the second and today he had his checkup. I took him out for a breakfast taco (he gets egg and cheese) before the appointment hoping a full tummy might keep him calm for the doctor, especially now that he has teeth. Turns out he loves the doctor but is completely terrified of his nurse, which makes sense because she is the one who pins him to the exam table and gives him shots.
Charlie has seemed awfully huge lately to both me and Ryan. He is starting to look a little crowded in his crib and I can rest my hand on his head when we are both standing up (a good steering mechanism actually). Recently I haven't been able to carry him as far, but I thought it was because of the pregnancy and because Charlie starts kicking and squirming around when he is tired of being held. So I was looking forward to putting him up on the official scale. Turns out he weighs a sciatic nerve crushing twenty-eight pounds and is nearly thirty-three inches tall. Which means in the last three months he's gained two pounds and grown two inches.
The doctor was impressed with Charlie's thirty-five word vocabulary, although it's actually thirty-six because I didn't tell him Charlie can correctly identify tater tots. And knows they come from Sonic.
I did tell the doctor that Charlie helps himself to grapes out of the vegetable drawer and loves to read Goodnight Moon (which he calls "Bye Bye").
Here are some pictures of my giant toddler-baby on Day 1 and out on the swing today wearing his hospital issue pom pom hat that still fits on his 95th percentile head (barely). That was twelve inches and twenty pounds ago and even though he now occasionally screams "NO!" at me and drops to a puddle of misery on the floor in public we are having more fun than ever.