We went to the clinic the other day. There is a customary weigh and measure check at the beginning, a sort of test that is bound to make any parent nervous. ‘Will my baby be good enough?’ Are the thoughts that drift into one’s consciousness. But I need not have worried. My son has grown more than a centimetre a week since he was born, and put on a kilogramme a month. Pretty impressive, and a great pleasure for me: there cannot be much wrong with my boy if he is 2.5 standard deviations above the average in height, two for weight, and one for head circumference. This leads me to the conclusion that my son is tall, but not fat or big headed. Win win win.

But now, I find myself waiting for this to change. I might even say I were keen for it to. If we extrapolate these rates out for a couple of years hence, he will be my height (2m) before the age of 3, and weigh about 45 Kg.  I weigh more than twice this much, and have been told not to lose any more weight.

The possibility of a child of giant height but gaunt limbs, albeit remote, scares me. One of the nicest things about being a parent is seeing your child(ren) get bigger and stronger, more able, faster and so on. I suspect it is what is behind the cliché of Grannies saying ‘haven’t you grown’. But an adult-sized, size 0, toddler is not the sort of growing we desire. This fully expected change of rate in growth, despite being what I want, comes with a feeling of the unknown, of what is about to change and how it will happen.

I have no doubt this will not be the last time I feel this. In a decade from now, we will have puberty going on and…well, I could finish that sentence in several ways, all of which you can think of for yourself. What interests me, and in a way is just as scary is anticipating his changing needs. The best example so far, is going from size 1 pampers to size 2. We were both dimly aware that it would happen at some point, though precisely what to look for was not something we had thought about. I suppose we assumed it would just be a size thing. That certainly was not the criterion for changing from size 2 to size 3. The size 2s lost their efficacy as a dam, rather than getting too small. We put the spillage down to a super-active digestive system of a fast-growing baby. However, as soon as we had the inspiration to change to 3s, it all settled down again.

Recently, we have gone to size 4. For the sake of honesty, I should say that is partly because it feels like the right time and partly because we ran out of 3s. Nevertheless, the progress is happening, and the tyranny of size 5 pampers aside, I do not always feel I know what will happen next or what it will be like.  But I have decided it will be a win, though, if not a win win win.