Well, that explains everything!

Dedicated readers of this blog are aware of my son’s awesome ability to consume large quantities of food. Let’s put it this way: The typical 4-5 month old will drink about 24 to 32 ounces of formula or breastmilk a day; Baby C drinks about 40-48 ounces of breastmilk a day. As of his last check up, he was in the 90th percentile in height and in the 50th percentile in weight, so he’s clearly not overweight.

What does this massive consumption of food mean? Well, for one thing, I have to keep up with his needs and find myself constantly hungry. This latest diet doesn’t help matters much, either. (I ate an entire rotisserie chicken for lunch today with an artichoke heart salad and an entire 10-ounce bag of gourmet potato chips… and I was still hungry.) As I’m still breastfeeding my son, I’m not overly concerned about the quantity of the food I’m eating, especially since I’m also losing weight.

But what concerned me for a while was precisely why my little boy was eating as much as he was – and how was it possible that he was consuming as much as he was and not showing it?

Last night, Cute Husband and I were having dinner, and Baby C sat happily in his bouncy seat while we ate. As I watched him, it finally occurred to me how his weight remained average though his appetite certainly wasn’t: the boy constantly moves. Just in his seat, he talked to us, kicking his legs quickly all the while. (It also explained how his legs got so strong, when I cave too quickly and excuse him from the requisite Tummy Time exercises.)

I’m really not looking forward to the day he is mobile. If I think I’m getting a workout now by just picking him up and putting him down, just wait until I have to run after a crawling baby to pick him up. Karma is truly unbiased. (Note to self: Send Mom and Dad a note apologizing for my constant activity as a kid.)

So, where did he get this fantastic metabolism, you ask? Believe it or not, from both Mom and Dad. Cute Husband and I were mere shades of ourselves when we met many, many moons ago. Back then, we were in our early twenties and had metabolisms that rivaled those of race horses. Plus we were still in college and, well, that meant a certain amount of walking each day.

Now, we’re not so slim. We’ve each grown a clothing size or two, but I firmly believe it’s because we’re really not all that active anymore. Plus we’re in our early thirties, and, well, metabolisms start to slow at our old age.

But Baby C has inherited our metabolisms. And I think he’s picked up my childhood appetite (large portions) and Cute Husband’s adolescent feeding cycle (constant). What will this ultimately mean for him?

For now, I have no idea.

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