I was just searching the InterWebbie Brand Information Network for.. well, I was ego-searching to be honest.. and I stumbled upon this site and thought, "WOW! Somebody’s set up a whole website with a bunch of funny stuff I’ve done! Cool, I can read a bunch of my old columns.. and watch some videos.. and.. WAIT A MINUTE! This hasn’t been updated in years! HEY, I’m responsible for that site. Oh, carp!" So, yeah.. sorry?

So much has happened since my last column. My cute little baby has grown into a cute little girl. She’s about six or seven months into what we have to assume is the "Terrible Two’s." She’s started getting all defiant.. testing boundaries.. going out at night, drinking and smoking with her friends. Unacceptable! Where does she learn this behavior? Not Daddy!

It’s really not that terrible.. Callia is a joy which further reinforces my Parents Are Full Of Carp And Always Have Been Theory.

Carp: a bottom-feeding freshwater fish which is the main ingredient of most parents.

Remember when your parents exaggerated everything they told you and you saw right thru it and thought they were full of it? Then, sometime in your twenties you realize that your parents had the best intentions.. and maybe YOU were the assjack. Having redeemed yourself and finally become an adult, you shake your head at how immature you were.. as you continue to eat all of their food and bring your laundry every time you visit.

Then your friends start having kids and you think, "They’ve lost their damn minds! Why? How nuts is that?! Not me!" But they tell you how great it is and you secretly think, "No, they’re full of it. I’ve seen what their day to day life is like and that sucks." If you take it at face value.. yeah, you’re right.

At some point, though.. the Pop Rocks and Coke mixtures you ingested decades ago finally gestates and you have kids of your own. (yes, that IS how it happens.. babies come from crappy, over-done pop culture references.) Then you realize that yes, wiping some kid’s butt and nose for him is an irritating chore.. but taking care of your own kid is.. well, it’s an irritating chore.. but you don’t mind doing it ’cause you love ‘em and it brings you joy to be able to do something to help them out. (Hopefully that’s the case. There are exceptions to the rule, of course, and those parents are now either in jail or on their way to H – E – double – "time-out".)

Being a parent means you are around other parents, like it or not. You soon realize that most of these parents are overly concerned with making sure everybody thinks their kids aren’t the dumbest, ugliest ones ever to live (especially when, clearly, they are). They do this by comparing their spawn to yours and by exaggerating everything their kid does.

Little Billy pounds on the keyboard mindlessly? Computer genius!

Pookie cocks an eyebrow at an odd time? Comic genius!

Katie eats something she found in the yard? What a resourceful young naturalist wilderness survival expert!

"We call him Monkey ’cause he climbs all over everything!" Really? You mean just like every other kid that has ever lived? How unique! "Monkey?!" That’s wild! How’d you think of that?

Santa arrives with beer for Daddy.. Callia cries.. and Mommy can barely contain her venomous rage.

"I’m not going to be that way," I remember saying. "I’ll never lie to my kid, either.. I’ll tell her the truth about everything and she’ll appreciate it." Then Christmas comes and Santa arrives with his bag full of lies. Eventually, the Easter Bunny hops into town just to make sure you don’t go six months without confusing a religious event with the contrived commercialism that requires the same card-candy-gift and dinner reservation combo that every other "holiday tradition" consists of. Guess what? Now you’re a parent who’s full of crap, too. (No, next Easter we’re not getting chocolate eggs from a bunny.. it’s going to be Lincoln Logs in the sock drawer delivered by a goldfish, just to honor the memory of Bill Hicks.)

That was a long winded way of saying I think other parents have either exaggerated how "terrible" the Twos are.. or their kids were clearly inferior to mine in every single way, especially genetically, intellectually, cosmetically, socially.. oh, wait.. I’m full of crap, too (or carp.. whatever, same thing). Especially when I say I’m going to sit down and write more often.

Although she has been scooting around the floor and rolling over and stuff, today was the first day Callia busted out with a full-blown crawl and traveled across the room like she had places to go. If you blink, she’ll have moved 10 feet and be trying to put her finger in an electrical socket.. so I guess the fun has just begun!

Sometimes the ladies at the daycare write little notes about Callia’s day on her info sheet. Here’s what they wrote today:

“She had a few broken up Cheerios and loved them. She laughed a lot today =).”

“Got stuck by a chair when attempting to crawl. It was funny – but of course we moved her after a chuckle!”

I’m just glad they’re having a good time at my baby’s expense! She is funny though.. and mobile.

A few weeks ago, we started practicing to crawl. When a ball would roll away, she’d lean forward and reach but wouldn’t move her butt to go after it. If it was out of her reach, she’d get frustrated and cry.. so I started leaning her forward until she was on all fours and would move an arm forward.. then a knee.. then the other arm.. then the other knee.. until we got to the ball. We’d do that back and forth across the floor. She started doing it a little bit on her own, but didn’t go into a full blown crawl.

I started an intensive exercise program with her to help get her moving around. She has always been frustrated when laying face down.. she just doesn’t like it. Laying flat on her back, she would play or take a bottle or just watch you, but she’s never been comfortable flipped over the other way. So, we practiced rolling over, pushing herself up, doing sit-ups and standing from a sit. She’d hold one of my fingers in each hand and pull on them to sit up or stand or whatever. We’d do 10 or 20 sit-ups in a row, and then move to another skill.

Now, if you set her down on the floor she’ll move 6 feet before you know it. She doesn’t crawl full speed in the traditional fashion, but she scoots around by pushing herself up and sitting back down.. kind of inch-worming across the floor. You can’t just set her on the couch and expect her not to nose-dive off of it anymore.

I also tried to get her to clap. I’d do it and then move her hands for her and make them clap. Then I’d clap. After a few minutes, she’d start clapping with me.

Soon, we begin heavy weight lifting training and learning how to mow the grass.

This afternoon at 1:30, Callia had her 6-month checkup at the doctor’s office. I’m in charge of taking her in for her shots. Laura took her in for the first set of ‘em, and it just broke her heart to see her cry like that. They asked her to hold Callia down while they stuck her, and when they did Laura said Callia turned red and looked at her like she had betrayed her. Laura said, “She cried real tears!” (as opposed to those fake tears most 6-month-olds usually cry).

So now anytime shots are involved, it’s all me. The appointment went great. The doctor was really impressed with Callia’s growth. She was in high percentiles all around for growth and weight. She asked, “what have you been feeding her!?”

“Nothing special. Grubs, worms.. the usual.”

“Whatever it is, keep it up! Very healthy looking.”

Then, the rough stuff. The nurse came in with the shots. Last time I took her in for shots, she yelled for about 3 minutes, but then she was ok. This time.. a little more harsh. She screamed for at least 5 minutes.. louder than I’ve heard her ever do. I held her and walked around the room for about 10 minutes until she calmed down enough to leave. As we set up the next appointment, she was whimpering and I had to give her a bottle just to calm her down. In the car, she was fussing and breathing heavy.. at home, for the next 30 minutes, she was still whimpering and shaken.

Poor thing. She went to sleep sometime before 4 p.m. – about three hours early (and I crashed out too.. and I wasn’t even drinking.. daddy was drained). Both of us pretty much slept all night.

Callia is five months old! We’ve got some new pictures up of her playing with Mom, Dad, Guido and her friends at daycare. Any fool can plainly see how incredibly cute she is, but what a lot of people don’t realize is that she’s also a super genius. Here’s some proof:

I noticed something this morning.. and she’s probably been doing this for a while, but this morning it struck me that when I change her diaper she helps me. When I unzipped her outfit, she pulled her legs up out of the legs of the sleeper so I could slip them off easier. Once I got it off, she laid her legs down so I could get to the diaper tape. When I was pulling the diaper off, she lifted her butt up for me. I wiped her off, and touched her legs when I needed to pick them up to get the back side of her little booty.. and she flipped her legs up for me. When I was done cleaning up, she laid them back down. I got a new diaper, and she lifted up her butt for me so I could slip it under.

It was cool. At every stage of the process she knew what I needed her to do and she helped me out. I guess she has done it for a while, but I just then realized it. That really made me smile.

I had her trained to grab her bottle and hold it on her own. Whenever I’d feed her, I’d put each of her hands on her bottle for her. She wouldn’t always keep them there, but sometimes she’d hold it for a while. Every once in a while, she’d just grab it from me like she didn’t have time to mess around with me.. it was really funny. She hasn’t been doing it on her own so much lately, so I guess I have to get her back into the habit.