Sorting the boys' clothes to put them away is the hardest part of my laundry rountine.
The shorts are the worst to figure out. Looking at the tags doesn't help much--a 5 could belong to either Noah or Nick, depending on how tight or loose the waist is.
Noah is nine and Nick is six, but their clothes are nearly the same size.
Noah has been slowly dipping down on the growth chart over the past several years. As an infant, he was right at the 50th percentile--absolutely average--but now, at nine, he's in the 1st percentile--absolutely tiny.
The percentile isn't so important so long as it's consistent. If you start out at the 10th percentile and then stay there throughout childhood, you're good. But if your growth curve dips, that means something is wrong.
Noah's bone age scan shows that his bones have only developed to the age of a six year old. He got into an argument at school yesterday because some kid thought he was a first-grader. He's the size of a first-grader. But he's in fourth grade.
Noah's classmates are feet taller than he is, and Noah only has a couple of inches on his baby brother. That he is four years older than.
Obviously his body isn't properly producing growth hormones. So what do we do? Wait. And wait. The first appointment we could get to see a pediatric endocrinologist is the end of January. Gotta love the doctor shortage in this town.
Hopefully Nick won't surpass Noah's height in that long wait. And hopefully Noah won't beat up too many kids for thinking him a first grader.
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