My Professional Background - Once upon a time, I wanted to be a motivational speaker. Actually, I was a professional motivational speaker for about 5 years.:
Baby Weight & My Prayer for My Daughter

Let’s talk about baby weight for a minute, shall we? I’m not talking about the kind we all carry around for varying lengths of time after childbirth. No, I’m talking about the kind of baby weight that pediatricians like to refer to in percentiles. That stuff that helps us determine where our kids rank in comparison to the height and weight of their peers.

I took JJ and Averi for their annual checkups last Friday. And I have to say first of all that they should hand out gold medals at the exit for those of us who are stupid enough to schedule back-to-back appointments for two toddlers during nap time. This medal of pure gold could have an inscription that reads, “Silence is golden. Bring your kids AFTER nap time, you nitwit.”

Or something like that.

I clearly didn’t consider the ramifications. And I suffered greatly for it. We all did. The good doctor included.

Anyhow, I adore our kids’ pediatrician. He works here on post (though I’m pretty sure he’s a civilian), and he has such a fantastic way with the little ones. He’s like a healthier, Brazilian Santa Claus. But instead of presents, he brings tongue depressors.

I liked him more than the kids did, obviously.

He went through the whole procedure where he asked me what they ate, what they did for exercise, how they behaved, etc. I always start sweating during that part because it is the parental equivalent of a pop quiz. Though I know to always expect it, I’m never quite sure how to answer:

Dr. Brazilian Santa:  “Mrs. Morgan, do you have any concerns about JJ’s behavior?”

(I quickly compile a mental list of all the tantrums he had…BEFORE NOON.)

Me:  “Um…well…there doesn’t seem to be anything outside the realm of a typical 3-year-old.”

(Long pause.)

Dr. Brazilian Santa:  “Sooooo, nothing you want me to put in his chart?”

Me:  “Oh! No.”

I don’t want this in my kid’s permanent record:

“At 3-years-old JJ once threw his cup across the room because his mother put the wrong color lid on it.”

He’d never get into college. They take that stuff pretty seriously.

And then, of course, we get to the topic of potty training. I’m pretty sure I brought it up since it’s been such a challenge for me. And by challenge I mean that I beg, plead, and bribe JJ to do his business in the potty, and he then hides by the front door and poops on himself just to spite me.

Dr. Brazilian Santa:  “Well, it’s not abnormal at all for boys to take a long time to potty train. It’s not unheard of for them to wait until they are 5 or 6.”

FIVE OR SIX?!? Could you give me some hope, at least? If JJ stayed in diapers until exactly two years from now, we would pay about $2,000 in diapers alone. Let’s not even count the cost of wipes, ointment, and the price of my sanity. We can’t put a price on that.

Just ask my husband.

This wasn’t exactly the news I wanted to hear from Dr. Brazilian Santa. I was, however, pleased to hear that JJ will likely be close to 6’5″ and on the slender side.


Because you’d have to dig pretty deep into our family trees to find someone that tall. I do have one cousin who is both a giant AND a genius. So, here’s hoping JJ takes those genes and runs with them.

Then we got to Averi, and the news was a bit…different. The doctor predicted she would be 5’4″ (about average for a female) and, as he said it, “She might have a few extra pounds.”

Okay, this is where I had to laugh. Because all I could think about is what I looked like at her age.


Like a beach ball with arms and legs.

And that is exactly what my entire family called me. Kid you not. My brother was the adorable, slender, active one, and I was the human Beach Ball with Arms and Legs.

I think my mom even had that embroidered on a shirt for me. Probably on a really tight turtleneck.

I can’t blame them, though. Case in point:


My pants are unbuttoned (likely out of necessity), and I’m still shoving cookies in my mouth.

Seriously, what’s with the turtlenecks, mom? They sure didn’t help the situation all that much.


Ah, yes…this one is much better. Because the only thing that can make a kid look chubbier than a turtleneck is a ruffled bonnet. And nothing else.

My brother said that it looked like I had a twin but decided to eat it.

The good news is that I eventually grew out of my “baby fat” and grew into a wonderfully happy child.


I think that face says it all, “I was happier when I was eating cookies in a turtleneck with my pants unbuttoned.”

Seriously, though, I’m not worried about our little Averi one bit.

She’s active.


Veeeeeeery active.


She’s happy.


(Most of the time.)


She’s a little bit prissy.


And there’s not a chart in the world that could measure the depth of those eyes…


…or the sweetness of her smile.


My prayer for my little girl is that she will resist the temptation to look in the mirror and see imperfections. Extra pounds or not.


Rather, I desire for her to look with confidence at her reflection and know that she is fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of her Creator—for His glory.

I pray that she will embrace her God-given body whether she is a beauty by physical standards (which, of course, we all think she is)…


…or whether, like her mother, she more closely resembles spherical beach toys.


Or the Michelin Man.

(Mom, seriously? Again with the turtlenecks?)


Comments to "Baby Weight and My Prayer for My Daughter"

  1. Beth

    June 17, 2013

    You were a CUTE little chubster! And your girl is pretty darn adorable too. In other news, I’ve never in my life heard of a Dr. predicting height and weight at well-child check-ups. That’s just not right! I know plenty of people that were chubby kids and stick-thin adults. What was he trying to accomplish by telling you that?
    I love reading your blog. You are high-LARious.

    • katyinacorner

      June 17, 2013

      @Beth Awwwww…thanks Beth! I appreciate your kind words.
      Well, it didn’t seem unusual to me that the doctor gave us the percentile info. We’ve always taken our kids to military doctors, and I guess that’s a common thing. I’m actually surprised that non-military docs don’t. Not that it changes much…it just makes for good blog fodder. 🙂 Thanks so much for reading!!!

  2. GMan

    June 17, 2013

    Ahhhh the memories. Those cookies must have been some of your mom’s world renowned homemade cookies. The picture with Santa Claus must have been taken right after we told you the cookies were gone. 🙂 I agree with you on the picture in the diaper and bonnet. One of your mom’s sick jokes I guess. Anyhow, a fun drive down memory lane.
    Averi is a lot of fun. Enjoy EVERY MINUTE of it! We did. 🙂
    Love you,

    • katyinacorner

      June 17, 2013

      @GMan Seriously, dad…you could have stopped mom from buying all the turtlenecks. I do have to wonder what Averi will blog about one day. Maybe the skinny jeans I make her wear. Or the John Deere shirt. I don’t know. Can’t wait until my kids are old enough to criticize my sense of style and/or my parenting skills! 🙂 PS – Tell mom to send me some cookies. I loooooooooove her sugar wafers!

  3. LaLa

    June 17, 2013

    Katy, I need to go on assignment to my baby book and find some pics that could beat yours…chubby palms down.  What’s funny is your like a 0-0 now so I don’t care what those doctors say…they don’t know it all!  Averi is fearfully and wonderfully made and good for her she has a Momma who is teaching her all the right things.  Like Go Dawgs.  And no honey, it’s not nice to call Mommy’s belly fat…oh wait, that was my kid…ta ta for now 🙂  LaLa

    • katyinacorner

      June 17, 2013

      @LaLa We should totally have a chub-off on my blog. The person with the chubbiest baby picture gets a lifetime supply of chocolate. And a gym membership. I don’t know. I’m still working on the details.

  4. SarahLudwig

    June 17, 2013

    My personal theory is that when pedis dont have anything serious to talk to you about, they pull out those height/weight charts – BOTH of my strong, healthy, active kids were on the small side and diagnosed as Failure to Thrive, which is the worst name ever. http://lovetheludwigs.com/2013/05/29/failure-to-thrive.html

    • katyinacorner

      June 17, 2013

      SarahLudwig Ugh. “Failure to Thrive” is an unfortunate name. I understand the need for doctors to measure a child’s growth in comparison to their peers, but it can be disconcerting to parents to hear numbers and labels like that. I honestly believe that a mother’s instinct carries far more weight than any comparison chart. 😉 Your little one is a cutie, by the way!!!

  5. Debbie Eaker

    June 17, 2013

    So funny and so sweet!

  6. Becky Bishop Honeycutt

    June 18, 2013

    I was just laughing (quite loudly) at the sweet pictures and descriptions of you as a toddler. You were so stinking adorable, just as your daughter is now. And you’re right, there is no measuring the depth of her eyes. She is gorgeous!!!

  7. Katy in a Corner

    June 18, 2013

    Rebekah Morris Kirkland, we can be “failures” together. 🙂

  8. Jen Lilienthal

    June 23, 2013

    I am at work catching up on your life…. Rolling w tears. I love the way u look at life. And I love the way you love your life!! Ty for sharing!!

  9. Katy in a Corner

    June 24, 2013

    Awww…thanks, Jen! It’s a privilege to make you laugh while you’re at work. That makes me smile. Thanks for reading and for your encouragement!


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