- Height: 40.5" (50th percentile)
- Weight: 39.4 lbs. (75th-90th percentile)
- Head: they didn't measure--wish they would have--I'd like to have known! ;o)
A note about Coop's 4-year appointment:
Cooper received his kindergarten vaccinations at this appointment, even though he won't actually be going to kindergarten until almost 6 years old. The doctor said the timing doesn't matter so much, and it's a lot easier while they're smaller. So I went ahead and got them done. I didn't tell him about it at all ahead of time, not wanting to have him worrying over something he had no control over. So after his physical, the nurse came in with his vaccinations, and he saw the syringes, which he calls "pokes." He turned to me with a little tremor in his voice and said, "Mom, am I getting those pokes today?" I explained why (for school), etc. and that yes it would hurt for a few seconds, but then it would be over and all done. I told him he was a very brave boy and that I knew he could do this, but that I'd also be right there giving him a hug and holding his hand. So he sat there on the table and put out his arm for the nurse. I could see a little fear and worry in his eyes, but he was trying so hard to be brave, and even wanted to watch. I held his head to me, and hugged him tight. (I think I hate my kids getting shots as much as they do! It's such a hard thing for me as a mom.)
To my utter surprise, Cooper didn't cry at all. He certainly flinched with each stick (there were two), but he did not cry. When the nurse was done and applying the band-aids, I praised him for being so brave, and he put on a brave smile, and said, "Yeah, I'm a very brave kid." The nurse praised him and left the room. I was still praising him, trying to get the boys ready to leave. Hudson started fussing because he was hungry and tired, and then Coop started to fall apart a little, wanting my undivided attention. He kept trying to get on my lap as I was trying to stand up, and then he hugged my leg and refused to leave the room. I had to put Hudson in his car seat (screaming now), and pick up Cooper and the baby/car seat and lug them and the diaper bag out of the room and down the hall to the exit. Finally somewhere down the hall Cooper decided to let me put him down (thank goodness because I was about to drop one of them. I'm strong, but not enough to carry a 40 lb. preschooler, his 18 lb brother, a 7 lb car seat, and a very hefty diaper bag!) He just about started to cry then, but I reminded him that boys who are brave get a lollipop and stickers on the way out. So he held it in and the nurse gave him TWO lollipops and two stickers.
In the car he started telling me his arm hurt too much and was broken and couldn't work anymore. I said, "Well, that's too bad because I wanted to take you to Chick-Fil-A on the way home, to have lunch, and to play on the play set." Ah, that changed him--at least for 5 seconds. We did stop to eat lunch, and he played and played for about an hour, climbing all over the place, using his arm without complaint. But the minute I said it was time to leave, oh, his arm was suddenly VERY sore and "broken" again. He really was a little sore for about 24 hours, but did very well. I was pleasantly surprised that the whole ordeal wasn't too bad of a childhood memory for him, at least not from my perspective. He IS a brave little guy.
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