I’m having trouble getting too worked up about the state of the world today, and the fact that I am in a squabble with my Mom, and the fact that I have to take the GRE on Friday.

Why? Because my daughter took her first steps last night. It was exciting, and indescribable. I wish the whole world could have been there, but I was, so that’s all that matters I guess.

I often reflect on my daughter’s ass. It’s cute and round and perfect, of course, but what I usually think about is the sheer volume of liquids and solids that I have seen come out of it. You know those monumental piles of dung one sees at the zoo? Well, that’s nothing compared to what I’ve seen, sister. When she was really teensy and pooping several times a day, sometimes I would get her diaper off and she would go again. One time this happened on my bed, and there wasn’t very much coverage under her, so what else could I do? I caught it all in my hands naturally.

I also think about all of the people who have seen her ass. Her Grandmas and other people who are related to her. People in fancy restaurants. People in the bathroom at Target and Fred Meyer. friends that I am not even friends with anymore. Makes you think doesn’t it… how many people have seen your ass?

Vicki Iovine, baby writer extrordinaire, says you get one freebie with every kid- one chance to avert disaster and then you’re on your own. Hers was a forgotten cup of coffee at the edge of a table- which her toddler pulled down on himself. The coffee turned out to be lukewarm- it was her freebie. Well, this is a minor one but I still consider myself lucky.

When my lil Spud was about three months old, I invited the Spicy Vixen over for some general post-exam carousing. Many white Russians were consumed by all, and I think I fell into bed at about 3am. As usual, the Spud was due up at 7am, but I decided to face the consequences later.

At 7, she began crying in her crib and I woke up to get her. Groggily, I took the wet diaper off the image of her that was most in focus, fed her, and brought her to bed with me as was my custom.

About an hour later I was awakened by a strange feeling. I opened my eyes to see my baby staring at me very seriously, which added to the feeling that something was wrong. I said good morning and gave her a little pat which ended at her bottom. It was squishy and smooth when it should have been diaper-crunchy! Shit!

In my hungover, out-of-it state I forgot to put a diaper back on her. However, she was bone dry. It was a small freebie, and even though I was hung over I was happy for the rest of the day. I’m sure bigger freebies will come later.