At ten years and one month, exactly, DD weighs in at 55 pounds and is 55 & 3/4ths inches tall. As always, she's at about the 75th percentile for height, while hovering between the 5th and 10th percentile for weight. She's remarkably consistent, and remarkably healthy, now. Ten years ago she was putting me through the wringer.
After her painless and pleasant well-visit, she begged me for Starbucks. It was a damp, chilly morning, and we were out of the doctor's office before 8:30. I could have had her back at school by 8:45, but I caved. We took the Starbucks detour (I got her the delightfully low-priced kid's hot chocolate, only $1.10) and got her to school just before 9AM. I figured an extra 15 minutes wasn't going to make much difference.
At the time I felt some anguish: what signal am I sending my daughter, what am I teaching her about school, that it's OK to blow it off for a while to get a nice hot beverage? I don't know -- I rationalize by reminding myself she's effortlessly getting straight A's and the entire staff loves her.
That's a front, though. The truth is, I love to spoil my kids, just a little bit. It's not the food or the drinks, it's the time spent together, talking about nothing or just being quiet with each other. It's a rare thing for me to have such one-on-one time. Who could blame me for wanting to stretch it out a little? (Is it my daughter who is spoiled, or is it me?)