menometrorrhagia

For the past month or so I’ve been staying at home, mostly, to study for the USMLE step 2. One of the myriad things I’ve found to do other than that has been taking walks with Phenie around our apartment complex. Our complex is a little bit older, probably built in the seventies, or at least long enough ago that these structures were still considered apartment homes rather than temporary housing. Because of this the six or so buildings in the complex are arranged such that they form multiple courtyards highlighted by large old oak and maple trees that provide the shade that makes the brutal heat of Dallas in the summer bearable.
Each courtyard has a slightly different character. One is home to the complex pool, another has a grill and a fountain with stone birds playing in it. “Our” courtyard has a stone elephant fountain (and a grill, but it’s gas, and seriously, why grill on gas? You could just cook that shit inside on your gas stove.). There’s even a long, narrow yard out front where people can walk their dogs. Our dining room window looks out over this yard, and Phenie spends hours searching for puppy dogs so she can go “whoof whooof” and squeal.
So that’s where we walk everyday. There are numerous steps and uneven flagstone paths that can prove treacherous for a toddler still getting her sea legs. A couple of days ago we were walking and Phenie came to a step down and, with just the slightest hesitation, she put her right hand up toward me without even looking to see if I was there. I helped steady her, and she took the step like a champ. I was totally awed by her absolute trust that I was going to be there to take her hand just in time for her to get down the step without crashing. I assumed that trust was something that I had earned and felt better about myself than I ever have.
So of course this evening on our walk, when I was playing peek-a-boo from behind an oak tree, she came to a step down and walked down it like it was nothing. Another moment never to be repeated that I could have easily missed. And undoubtedly will miss with any future children as I work like a slave for the corporate/pharmwhore/federal health system. Sigh.

So Phenie had her 12 month check up at the pediatrician’s today. They measured her at 31.25″ long, or about half the length of one grandma. Ninety-sixth percentile buddyyyy! My baby huge.

I heard a story last night about Phenie’s great-grandfather. It seems he was out walking his cat on a leash, which is funny enough, but then someone driving by threw a hamburger at him, presumably because he was walking a cat on a leash.

When I was in college I wrote a story about the first time that Adam (of Garden of Eden fame) had to take a crap. He was totally bewildered by the whole thing and thought he should offer the turd to G*d as a sacrifice so he burned it on an altar. The smell was so bad he started stomping out the fire and got shit all over himself. The snake thought it was pretty funny.
I’ve been thinking about that story because every time my little girl takes a dump I can tell she’s learning about it. At first she just contracted every muscle in her body simultaneously to propel the poo via some sort of spasmodic force. Then she learned that her abdominal muscles can really handle it themselves if she throws in a good Valsalva maneuver. Now she’s figuring out that a grunt produces a better Valsalva than a whine and that an open-mouthed grimace is more conducive to crapping than a closed mouth.  She still thinks she needs to furrow her brow and widen her eyes, but I’m sure she’ll learn about subtlety before too long.
Here’s a list of other things we take for granted that we all had to learn at some point:

1. Self exists, environment exists, and self interacts with environment
2. You don’t have to vomit after every meal
3. Fists can open into useful grabbing things
4. Nobody’s going to wipe your ass for the rest of your life
5. Hitting yourself in the eye with your fist is not a fun or necessary part of the procedure for sticking fingers into your mouth
6. Crying about it does not always make somebody else come clean up your shit
7. Toes exist and are part of self
8. The Smiths were cool
9. Big titties are badass

Tuesday morning Sweet Josephine was in the hospital room with my wife and I and needed to have her diaper changed. I knew she needed her diaper changed because she contracted her entire 21 inches down to about 12 inches and grunted, releasing a funny little fart and a bad odor. Mom was in no shape to take on this task, so Dad jumped on the grenade and began to change the first diaper of what promises to be a long and illustrious career of diaper changing. Josephine is apparently a very sweet tempered baby. She did not scream or wail during the changing process. While I painstakingly swabbed her bottom with a washcloth, however, she did kick her feet — into, and out of, the steamy little black puddle in her now-open diaper.This resulted in flecks of meconium going everywhere. Sweet right? So I neutralize her little legs with one hand and use the other to continue swabbing. I get rid of the offending diaper. I continue wiping away, desperate to remove every speck of impurity from her perfect new skin. She farts. A little warning shot across the bow, if you will. I paid no heed and continued my wiping. Then the oil spill began. I swear she oozed soft black feces onto her clean blanket for a full minute or more. At least I prevented anymore poo-flinging with the feet, but damn I felt stupid. My friends, take heed, when a little girl farts in your face, it is no idle threat.