Posts Tagged ‘percentile’

90th Percentile

12 October 2009

Dear J-

One of the terms you keep hearing as a parent is percentiles — the first twelve months is spent shuttling back and forth to the doctor for regular checkups and vaccines; the child is measured and charted against peers and the sizes (head girth, height, and weight) are dutifully reported. figgy’s been a 50th percentile kid where most of the other babies we know seem to have been 0th or 90th percentile kids — towering giants of 12 month olds or teeny little 3 year olds. As we sit at nifty fifty, some times we wonder if everything else is just as normal as size.

Because the weather was cool enough, we went to the Wild Animal Park today — the WAP is infamous for being the place where high temperature records go to die; we were there last year on Labor Day and ended up sweating our way across the park; with the day off it made perfect sense to head out for a long walk and questionable food. Last time we had a backpack and carried her when she got sleepy; this time, knowing that neither backpack nor stroller was an option, we spent a fair amount of time stooping and scooping up to the point where she’d wriggle out and run off, often in the opposite direction we intended to go.

Decisions 2834 -sm

In fact, on the bus tour today, we spent part of the ride restraining her from kicking other people (we got a rear-facing seat) unintentionally as she squirmed around, ever-antsy and only peripherally interested in the antics of the various animals we encountered, including two of only eight Northern White Rhinoceroses in the world — you can’t explain why she should pay attention. We also spent some time watching other kids, though; either we have no control over figgy, or most parents have much less crazy kids. Perhaps that’s what we’ve been looking for as the 90th percentile — if every child is unique, figgy’s niche in the world is her exuberant nature; life with her has been a battle of wills and an amazing journey I wake up excited to continue on daily.



figgy Rises

20 July 2008

Dear J-

It’s fun to watch figgy develop her personality further; we’re not so far beyond the I-want, but there’s glimmers of the person she’ll be.  Eating meals with her now becomes a group affair; squawks of protest greet every attempt to eat without sharing some of what you’ve got.  Here we’ve got to tread a little carefully, as eggs (and possibly peanuts) make her break out in hives — that stuff is everywhere, man.

With increased mobility (now featuring the Frankenstein’s Monster walk), the cats are no longer safe.  Unfortunately, that generally means trying to pick them up by the fur, or demonstrating love through direct pressure across the ribcage with her 80th percentile head (our pediatrician measures height, weight, and head circumference, assigning a “this is how many babies, percent-wise, that are smaller than this particular measurement” number).  I swear, one of the cats got up and wheezed for a few moments after a love hug.

And meanwhile, she keeps up her busy routines:  organizing (books on shelves apparently offend her), cleaning (ditto for used baby wipes in the trash can), and identifying (excited about airplanes, dogs, and birds; other babies, grudgingly, but boy does she go to town on her food).