Crooked Butt Crack

Entry for May 18, 2006

My daughter has a crooked butt crack. Yup. Just like it sounds. It deviates to her right, just at the top, in about the location that she will probably want to place an offensively cute butterfly tattoo in about 16 years. I knew her butt crack was crooked at birth, but never really thought anything of it until her 6 month check up the other day. Turns out it could be a sign of hip/spine deviation. This of course will require more tests. Luckily, just an X-Ray this time instead of the crazy crap that is usually suggested whenever she throws us a curve ball. How do human infants in really weird little tribes in far away countries survive? What would we ever do if we couldn't pursue this horrible crooked butt crack affliction with modern science? Anyway, after all we have been through so far, I am not worried. Maybe she won't get that butterfly tattoo this way.
Other than having a crooked butt crack, the 6 month check up went fine. She has jumped from less than the 25th percentile in height and weight to the 50th! She can actually wear 3-6 month clothing! Some of the 6-9 month stuff fits!!! Her shots went well this time. I think she knew what was coming, but the crying didn't last nearly so long. She wasn't cranky at all afterwards, and slept a lot the next day. Too bad vaccines can't happen every day!

In other news, the bloody poo never returned, so we started smushing cereal into Lola every night about three weeks ago. We started with crappy rice (have you ever tasted that sludge? It is truely awful, especially when made with her special formula). Then we recently moved on to oatmeal. She likes the oatmeal a lot better than the rice. Today I gave her the teensiest bit of applesauce with her evening oatmeal. She made a scrunched up cute face, but really seemed to enjoy the apple flavor. Hooray!

Another very exciting development: No more swaddle! Since it has been as hot as Hell here (really, like 90 degrees) she has decided that being swaddled in polar fleece every night is not very comfortable. I swaddled her in a bit of cotton sheet one night, but was afraid that she would somehow roll around and end up tangling the sheet around her mouth and nose and suffocate. Of course I thought about this all night off and on. I thought about it so much that I had to poke Wil several times to voice my concern. Needless to say, he didn't enjoy this very much, so I removed the sheet and the next night wrapped her lightly in a small receiving blanket. I figure she would have to try pretty hard to commit suicide with her receiving blanket. Still, I worry, and have to check on her every few hours.

I am finally catching up on my sleep. The week of Lola's cold was not without its good points, however. I acheived a new level of laziness. It is called "Side nursing". Basically I was so tired from my cold and dealing with Lola's cold that when Wil would go get her for her middle of the night feeding, I could hardly muster the strength to get up to feed her. Finally one night I told him to just lay her by me. Much like a plump mother sow nursing her piglets, I plugged her in and dozed while she nursed happily. When she was done, I poked Wil in the back, and he put her back to bed. I only had to move enough to expose a boob. It was great. Yet another amazingly wonderful thing I never would have seen myself acomplishing just a few short years ago. Side nursing...right on.

A comment or two on poop. Lola's poops have always been frequent and non-offensive in the smell department. She has always announced her poops loudly with much fanfare, but they have never caused me any nasal pain. That all changed with the introduction of solids. Yikes. She can actually knock me back a little with her new odor. She has also changed frequency. Where before it seemed like there was always poo in her diaper, now she only goes once a day or once every other day. Today she ended a poo strike. It had been over 48 hours. Wil and I were afraid that she would explode in a huge burst of foulness if she didn't go soon. Not to let us down, she announced the impending doom with several loud farts. I am so proud of her, her gas actually smells worse than her Daddy's now. She even made him gag a little. I hope she does it in the car when we have to have the windows up because of rain. Paybacks are a bitch! I am going to have to write the people at Huggies to thank them for their amazing diaper, because what it had to go through tonight, no diaper should ever have to experience. Enough said.


Lola can now sit up. Not much to say about that, except that it is super cute how she thinks that suddenly leaning back from a sitting position is a good idea.
Last thought for the night. It is really late here (according to baby time) and I am in the office upstairs next to her room typing this entry. Since it is 500 friggin degrees in here I had a fan running in the window in Lola's room so she doesn't die of SIDS because her room is 85 degrees. A few minutes ago I heard a horrible crash in her room and knew that the fan had fallen out of the window. I waited a moment for the startled wailing to begin, but none came. Panicked, I ran into her room and put my hand on her chest to feel for breathing. She was peacefully asleep, not disturbed at all by the loud crash. Why is it that this child can hear my steps on the stairs at night if I get up to pee and immediately wakes up yelling for attention, and yet she just slept through a huge fan falling out of her window and boucing off the rocking chair? Go figure.

Well, I can't think of anything else to say tonight, except sweet dreams. A few hours and I will be nursing my piglet.