Doll clothes: at least we made for ADAWWABLE babies XD
There even was a hernia. My first week in the world, the doctors had to cut a hernia. I've still got the scar—gave my general physician a fright this year at my physical, he jumped and went "Whoa!" Kinda looks like I've got coupon perfs on my lower waist. Ever since the approach to my health has been "FIND IT GET IT OUTTA THERE NOW DO IT".
It's occurred to me in recent years that this very fact is probably why I'm so squishy. I was this little-bitty thing who they had to find old Cabbage Patch doll clothes and pampers for. My folks apparently held this big celebratory thing when I got big enough for normal-sized!baby clothes.
My dad tells me that when I got past milk, my mom turned me into a food snob: homemade baby food. NOTHING OUT OF A JAR.
Maybe this is why I loooooooobster looooooove food. Ironically, when I was five or so it was hard to get me to eat—I didn't like food, it made my stomach hurt and I didn't see the point. Then at six, I COULDN'T get to the food—greedy little cousins, just because they're bigger than me and boys and *mutter mutter gnaws on a pilfered dry pack of noodles*
(Incidentally they're still bigger than me. I never did catch up. XD)
I remember it so well because my mom and dad told me around this time when I was six. We were shopping for Thanksgiving dinner and dad puts this bag of egg noodles in my hand and says, "You weighed this much when you were born." Then he hands me a bag of chips, which is about a third of the length of the noodle bag, and says, "But you were only this long."
Let me re-iterate that I was six. And no higher than a yardstick. This is the time of year that I count my lucky stars that I'm alive and healthy-ish.
Also, I can't pick up a bag of egg noodles for soup-making without remembering that day in the store. Weird but true.
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sforzinda
*tiny brofist!*
Date: 2011-11-20 07:22 am (UTC)There even was a hernia. My first week in the world, the doctors had to cut a hernia. I've still got the scar—gave my general physician a fright this year at my physical, he jumped and went "Whoa!" Kinda looks like I've got coupon perfs on my lower waist. Ever since the approach to my health has been "FIND IT GET IT OUTTA THERE NOW DO IT".
It's occurred to me in recent years that this very fact is probably why I'm so squishy. I was this little-bitty thing who they had to find old Cabbage Patch doll clothes and pampers for. My folks apparently held this big celebratory thing when I got big enough for normal-sized!baby clothes.
My dad tells me that when I got past milk, my mom turned me into a food snob: homemade baby food. NOTHING OUT OF A JAR.
Maybe this is why I
loooooooobsterlooooooove food. Ironically, when I was five or so it was hard to get me to eat—I didn't like food, it made my stomach hurt and I didn't see the point. Then at six, I COULDN'T get to the food—greedy little cousins, just because they're bigger than me and boys and *mutter mutter gnaws on a pilfered dry pack of noodles*(Incidentally they're still bigger than me. I never did catch up. XD)
I remember it so well because my mom and dad told me around this time when I was six. We were shopping for Thanksgiving dinner and dad puts this bag of egg noodles in my hand and says, "You weighed this much when you were born." Then he hands me a bag of chips, which is about a third of the length of the noodle bag, and says, "But you were only this long."
Let me re-iterate that I was six. And no higher than a yardstick. This is the time of year that I count my lucky stars that I'm alive and healthy-ish.
Also, I can't pick up a bag of egg noodles for soup-making without remembering that day in the store. Weird but true.