The countdown has begun...

Two weeks from tomorrow I take Little E in for his 18 month check-up.

It seems harmless enough, unless your child is Little E.

My pediatrician has already fired the warning shot.  Little E must be walking when he comes back for his 18 month check-up.  If not, it is off to physical therapy we go.


So here we are.  Seventeen months and some change.

Little E cruises.  Sometimes he lets go of whatever he is holding onto and stands unassisted for a few fleeting moments before he registers a look of panic and reaches out for the closest piece of furniture or wall.

I spend hours pacing the carpeted halls upstairs with him. He self propels his little chubbers and he is so proud of himself.  He's just not THERE yet.

Look, I have nothing against physical therapy.  I think it can be very helpful.  I do have something against monster medical bills and I'm SURE PT is not covered under our insurance.

Now, there is no need to start a political debate about the state of disrepair our healthcare system finds itself.  I'm just stating a fact.  The Yoys will be out of pocket for every dollar we spend.  And we don't have deep pockets.

Which is why I'd like to defend my baby.  I think he is perfectly fine.  He is just fat and a tad lazy.  I believe he has the ability to walk and when he finally finds the right motivation, he'll do it.

A Peep cake!  All the motivation I'd need.


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