Height and Weight, Please

At what point do you stop wanting to get TALLER and HEAVIER and get excited that you aren't getting SHORTER and THINNER?

I started thinking about that this morning when, for the fiftieth time in two months, I measured a son who is desperate to get out of his car seat.

Of course, he was almost tall enough to make the move BEFORE the law recently changed. But, we won't bother telling HIM that lest we have hari kari committed against Mom and some random politician from our district*.

While one son is bucking to sit on solid leather, the other end of the spectrum is dying to drive a seat without a back. He's 1.5 pounds shy of freedom. He's practically singing George Michaels**, he's so stoked. Of course, if he eats measly meals like he did this morning, he'll end up needing to gain 2 pounds instead. Eat, boy, eat!

As usual, the middle child is just along for the ride. He has said nary a word about butt-on-leather nor did he do the happy dance the day he moved to a booster. Some people are just satisfied with life, no matter the curveballs they are thrown.

Me? I'm pretty satisfied with my current height but my girth is expanding as the days pass. MUST.DO.SOMETHING.DIFFERENT. And a car seat incentive isn't going to do it for me. Unless it is a new CAR, a shiny convertible, that I would only fit in should I lose the requisite 15 pounds.....

"MIKE!!!!!!! I have an idea."***




*Son: "HMMMM...car seat or juvy at a tender young age?" Hard to determine the right answer when you are PISSED.

**The catchy chorus from the song "Freedom", in case you aren't up on your George.

***This always spells imminent danger. As in "Danger, Will Robinson."