I know, I know, I know.
I'm not supposed to compare the boys. They're both individuals, different and unique, and it's not fair to either of them to compare them. I get it. I do.
But I keep doing it when it comes to their sizes. We found out yesterday that Andrew is a lot smaller at nearly 9 months of age than William was. He's about 18 lb 4 oz and 28 inches long. That puts him in the 25th percentile for weight and a shade under the 50th percentile for height.
Now, the height thing was to be expected. William hovered around the 50th percentile in height many times. He's always been between the 50th and 75th percentiles for height his entire life, although I think he once hit the 80th after a growth spurt. And Andrew feels long to me, so I didn't think he'd be really short.
But the weight! Ack. This is a baby who started his life at 9 lbs 4 oz, if you recall. He was a big old chunk of baby. But his weight has been trending downward. And now he's downright slender. I've been thinking for awhile that he seems narrow, and I just got that officially confirmed at the pediatrician's office yesterday.
At first, I fretted. I am so used to sturdy William that I just couldn't conceive of it being okay for Andrew to not be so sturdy. What was I doing wrong, I worried.
But as the doctor pointed out, David and I are not big people. It's not really that surprising that we might have a child who is on the smaller side. As he gets older, Andrew seems to resemble David more anyway, and perhaps that means that he's going to resemble his daddy in body type, too. And is it really so strange for brothers to be really different? I mean, look at David and Mark. Case in point.
And someone has to be small. In order to have a 50th percentile, you have to have just as many people on either side, too. Someone has to be bigger. Someone has to be smaller. It looks like William is going to be bigger, and Andrew is going to be smaller.
Or maybe not. Maybe Andrew will catch up later. I'm going to add some supplemental formula to his diet, see if I can get him to chunk up a little bit. Boy, there's something I never thought I'd have to do! And to be fair, he's eating really well anyway. He's putting away a bowl of cereal with fruit in the morning, two containers of baby food at lunch and two at dinner most days now. It's not like he's not eating. And he's happy and healthy.
And smiley. He really is a smiley little guy.
So I'm going to try not to worry about this and just do the best I can to feed him and take care of him and love on him. And accept him for who he is. Which is a wonderful, marvelous, delicious, smiley little boy.