Happy as a (steamed, dripping in butter) Clam

When Jilly was born, we rejoiced at her fat. At 8 pounds & 12 ounces, she wasn't tipping the scales, but was oh so pudgy, pink and soft. Fairly Odd Father called her his "chubby little bug" in the email to family and friends.

Our chubby little bug

Then a strange thing happened. Her newborn weight melted away, and we started to have concerned 'weight checks' at the pediatrician's office--just like with her older sister. Except, unlike her sister, Jilly nursed like a champ, albeit, a champ who could complete a feeding in under five minutes and be perfectly happy.

I remember being told that she was 'barely' on the weight charts. Her older sister, who had weighed less at birth, was always in the 75th percentile; my second child was barely in the 6th.

I convinced myself that nursing wasn't 'working' anymore, what with me pumping four times a day so she'd 'get enough'; her fighting the breast and me fighting the tears. However, formula did nothing to boost her weight either.

My pediatrician repeatedly told me that I should not worry. My family is made up of string beans; my husband's family lacks anyone who could be considered overweight.

Who you calling skinny?

Her annual weight checks always surprised me. At one year, she was 17 1/2 pounds (her sister had been 20); at two years, she was 22 pounds (her sister was 28 pounds); at three, 26 pounds (sister = 34 1/2); and at her fourth birthday, she weighed in at a whopping 29 1/2 pounds (sister = (gulp) 40 pounds!). (One thing to note: her sister also had four inches in height over Jilly by the age of four, so big sis is by no means "BIG" sis!).

A tall drink of water next to a half-pint

I received some pretty interesting advice over the years from those who thought we must be doing something wrong to this peanut of ours. Advice ranged from, "give her formula with rice cereal mixed into it" to "cook everything in oil and butter", to "more cookies!".

Yes! More cookies, pweez!

I hated the idea of feeding her junk, just for the sake of it (wouldn't there inevitably be a point in her life when it was no longer good for her food to be dripping in oil, butter and cookies?). Just for the record, we are by no means 'low fat', 'anti-junk food' fanatics, nor do we 'count calories' or any other such thing.

Count calories? Why darling, I'm too busy dodging paparazzi.

So, now Jilly is all of 4 1/2. The story is long from complete, but there is one promising spin to it all. Unlike some of her peers (and her brother), who exist on nothing but pasta, bread, Cheerios and an occassional yogurt drink, Jilly's diet has become a bit more sophisticated.

To prove my point, in the past few months, she has eaten the following:

Sushi (vegetable and cooked shrimp), dipped in soy sauce, hold the wasabi

Pesto, both the basil kind and one made with arugula

Greek salad made with cucumbers, tomatoes, Feta cheese and Kalamata olives

Spinach Pie

Whopper Jr with Cheese

Half of the largest hot dog you have ever seen

Heaps and heaps of steamed mussels

Tacos piled with salsa, sour cream, lettuce and tomatoes

Green salad with pine nuts and goat cheese

Let's just say that if I'm eating it, she wants it.

So, eat on, my little girl! Thank your good genes and speedy metabolism.

Now, maybe we can work on your table manners.