My son is underweight. He’s 4 ½ and can still wear 24-month and 2T clothes. He’s just a tiny guy. He’s been to the doctor for weight checks since he was a toddler and it really used to freak me out. That’s a lie; it still does freak me out. He isn’t exactly a picky eater, he just doesn’t eat big portions. My husband and I have resigned ourselves to the fact that our little man is going to be little for a while longer.
While we’re used to his small stature, other people are not. I have been asked multiple times if he and my 2-year-old daughter were twins. Part of me just wants to answer, “Yep!” and move on. Instead, I sigh and say, “No, they weigh the same, but he’s two years older and has a tiny build.” The thing is, if people just left it at that, I’d be fine. What I get hit with is the advice that I certainly have not asked for: “Aren’t you worried that he’s underweight?” “Have you had him checked for anemia?” “Have you tried Pediasure?”
I want to pull my hair out, and not because of the advice that gets hurled my way, but because I AM worried about him. Yes, we’ve tried everything! Yes, the doctor is concerned that he’s underweight, but he’s always been little and, although he’s in the lowest percentiles for weight (not height), he has consistently followed his curve. But I do worry. I worry because I’m scared that he’s going to be teased in Kindergarten next year. I’m terrified because I don’t want him to get knocked over by a huge 5-year-old when he’s walking down the hallway. I’m afraid that he’ll get “lost in the crowd” and overlooked. He’s tiny, has a little voice, suffers from the same anxiety disorder that his big sis and I do, and he’s extremely sensitive.
He’s so sensitive, that I’m probably more protective of him than I am of my girls, especially when I see him getting teased or picked on. I can’t even type this without crying, that’s how much I ache inside to keep him safe from the huge world.
For now, I pray every night that he’ll continue to grow into a strong young man. I admire his empathy, his incredible intelligence, and his squeaky little voice telling me every day, “I love you infinity, mama.”
Mama loves you, too, sweet boy.
