15 months: doctor visit, dustups and one serious 'do

First off, I would like to note that I am not responsible for the hairstyle in these pics. I have no earthly idea how Jerry got the kid's hair to fall (or rise?) like that, but in my mind's eye it involves repeated swirlies in the toilet followed by long periods of blowdrying. But, looking at it, it's amazing how much hair changes a face. I think Wilder, especially in the second photo, looks kind of like a rockabilly boy. Like he should be singing Stray Cat Strut or something.

Anyway, we had our 15-month doctor's visit this morning. He's 32.5 inches and 26 lbs. His head is 48.5 cm, as if that means anything to anyone (who measures their head anymore??) Anyway, he's 75th percentile in weight and head size (again, that's just odd to write) and 90th in height. Or, as his doctor likes to say: "You have a tall, skinny son with a big head." Err, thanks doc. She also refuses to quit calling him "Chunk" even having said the aforementioned statement. Or maybe she was referring to me ... At any rate, Wilder is healthy and besides the fact that he refuses to point to his body parts when you name them (that's on his "developmental checklist"), it seems his brain is growing as it should, too. I like to think that when I say, "Where are your EARS honey?" he's thinking "You have eyes to see them with, idiot ... why are you asking ME where they are."

On another note, Wilder had his first takedown today. I dropped him off at daycare and his contemporary there -- we'll call him Chase in case he has a litigious mother who ever finds this blog -- anyway, Chase runs up to Wilder with a wicked gleam in his eye after I put him down, grabs a fistfull of his jacket and literally drags him to the floor, at which point he refuses to let go. What does my tough boy do? Well naturally, he does what I would do if one of my 30-something-year-old co-workers insisted on dragging me to the ground as I walked through my office door. He starts crying and screaming. I mean, I was thinking "What the HELL kid?" at this "Chase," so I'm sure Wilder was too. Anyway, we got through it OK, and I was assured later in the day when I picked him up that it was an isolated incident. I know he's gonna have to learn the rules of playground justice, but I hardly want him suffering at the hands of a young Genghis Khan at the tender age of 15 months.

Finally, I feel photo No. 3 needs some explanation. When your kid has jacked up hair, you should make him feel better by jacking up your own. He loved it (I had a wee pony tail in the back, too). And, incidentally, this is the first time I've put ponytail holders in my hair in nine months. I'm planning on wearing them to work tomorrow. Hopefully no one will take me down in protest.

Love to all, K, J & W