18 month appt.

So, the blessed baby had her 18 month checkup today. Good news, all is well in babyland. At 18 months, The Small One, and let me emphasize the "small" weighs a grand total of...wait for it...18 lbs. 12 oz. Woot! Cue the band! Her doctor hoped that she would 18 lbs. by 18 months and that goal was achieved. Yeay, yeay, yeay!!!!! While that weight puts her nearer the chart, it still doesn't put her on the chart, however, should she continue to gain at this rate, she should be back on the chart by her 2nd birthday (which, startlingly enough, is sneaking up on us!) It does create a lovely jump in her personal curve. Heightwise-she is 31"and some change, which leaves her smack in the 50th (where she has been the whole time) and her head is still in the 75th percentile. Doctor tells us she needs a large head to hold all those brains.
Her cognitive development is, as usual, rather ahead of schedule. She has many more words than normal, can also identify many more body parts and her physical skills are very good as well. Apparently, spinning and jumping and climbing like she does are supposed to wait until closer to the two year mark. Ha ha! My kid is a smartypants! After her exam, she took her clothes over to Doctor and told him to get her dressed, which he did, and then she toddled on over to the door, knocked on it, turned and said ba-bye! to doctor. He laughed.
She got her final dTap and a flu shot today. She doesn't like shots, but she holds very still while they are administered. She learned being in the hospital twice, that wiggling when needles are near means she gets pinned down. She hates that worse than the needles, so she stays still. Screams her silly head off, but stays still. Nurse April gave her the two stabs and her bandaids, The Small One screamed for about 38 seconds, then blew a kiss to Nurse April and left. Dang, that kid is soooo funny!
At the car, after The Small One was seated, she hiked up her little skirt to survey the damage. She pointed to her bandaids (hello kitty ones!) and I asked her what the Kitty says. She hissed. This just made me howl with laughter, because you see, if you ask her what a kitty says, she says reow, reow, reow. But if you ask her what an angry kitty says, she hisses. Evidently, band-aid kitty was an angry kitty. Which ought to have been obvious, seeing as how it bit her!
So, all good at the Doctor's office. Despite her allergies and her cold, we are told that she is extremely healthy!
The Small One likes to be swung (is that a word?) around sometimes, so last night I decided to oblige her. She stands with her back to me and I grasp her under the arms and swing, once, twice, then third time over my head so she lands sitting on my shoulders. She pauses there a moment, then back over my head to land right side up on the floor. I did this sequence a couple of times before setting her back down on the floor. When I did set her back down, she gave me a concerned look and said uh-oh! I said- uh-oh, what? She lifted up her skirt, felt her bare bum and looked around confused. I fell down, I laughed so hard. Her underpants had flown off somewhere during the swing and she couldn't figure where they had gone! She looked around, located said skivvies and sat on the floor in an attempt to re-install. I couldn't help, I was laughing too much. She looked at me with the most bemused expression, it made me laugh that much harder. I could tell she thought I was a bit of an idiot.
Bless the child, aren't you all jealous she isn't yours? I've read that intelligent children are more difficult to raise (and I will attest to that fact) but I wouldn't trade those brains for anything. The fits, the naughties, the trouble, it's all worth it!