Most people want to know, most commonly, how I manage with (at least) three things: bathroom, travel and sex/relationships. I will try to describe how I manage these and other experiences as best I can.

Bathroom: until I could walk, it was no problem at all. I wore premie underwear, p-j's and pampers and that was my sad existence. Bleak, I know, but remember: every day that I lived was a kick in the face to those doctors who never really believed I would survive. Even as my legend "grew", and my size became famous, the doctors continually badgered my parents that my "failure" to thrive would not, statistically could not, continue. Death would come sooner and more heart-breakingly than imagined. So they said. Well, thank you very much, fuckers, I thrive very fine on my own.

Anyhow, getting back to my early childhood: My parents would clean me and bathe me in the bathroom sink, drying me with a hand-towel that was, of course, twice my size. As the years passed, and I started to walk, obviously I needed a toilet and bath that I could reach. Clearly, the regular house toilet was way too high -- even now, at 18 inches tall, I am eye-level with the lowest part; you can imagine when I was only 15 inches tall the seat was way out of eye range! Lexie, for her part, has been complaining for a few years now that the seat is much too low! -- and of course the sink and bath faucets were incredibly beyond my reach.

So when I was about 10 years old, and it had become clear that I would never "grow" up, my parents built for me a personal bathroom in a part of the walk-in closet in one of the bedrooms. The ceiling is 24 inches high and the plumber who devised and built the bath/shower stall carried it in by himself to attach it. The toilet is basically a small bowl (the size of a cereal bowl) that literally sits on the floor and has tubings that run to the water lines. For me now, as well as when I was younger, this was perfect. My legs now are 8 inches high to my belly-button so to bend myself down to a cereal bowl, or to aim for it as I stand, is rather comfortable.

I dont travel much (we will get to that soon) but one time I came with Lexie on an airplane she carried me with her into the bathroom when we both had to go. Airplane bathrooms are supposedly tiny to begin with (or so most people say), so when you factor in Lexie's incredibly long legs you can probably imagine that there is not too much "extra" space for normal people there. Luckily for me, I am incredibly small (and proud!), so as she sat down on the toilet, she set me on the floor (yes, obviously below her knee level) and handed me an empty paper coffee cup. She has seen me naked plenty of times, but I still like to maintain some sort of dignity when I can, so I turned around so she wouldnt see (although, as I've said, her knees and legs are so incredibly high and long that she probably wouldnt have been able to see anything any way) and did what I had to. My point is, I don't need a lot of space, or high facilities, to, umm, eliminate.

Like I said, I have the shower in my personal bathroom that fits me fine, and regular people (umm, by that I mean, regular-sized people) have to bend down and almost literally lay on the floor to even look inside. I said the ceiling inside is 24 inches high (my parents were optimistic I would grow close to that height; sorry to disappoint, Mom and Dad!) but the door to the room is just 20 inches high (on tip toes, on good days, I can almost barely reach the top). Which means Lexie, with her humongous feet, can almost completely block my exit just by laying in front of the door. Just to give some context, if I stand in front of her foot while it lay on the ground but pointed up, her big toe tickles my chin. I promise, more on that later.

But Lexie is incredibly kind (we will get to more detailed description of both her personality as well as her behavior towards me soon enough), and she would never do that intentionally. There was only one time I can remember, although I don't recall how old she was, when she fell asleep against the door and I was trapped inside for several hours.

Anyhow, regarding travel: well, as you can imagine, it is dangerous, and really difficult, for a tiny child or man, to walk outside with regular sized people, children or adults. So most of the time I do not leave my home. I feel bad about this at times, but I do realize it's for the best in the end, and I really do not feel like I dont have what to do at home. I am always busy.

When I turned 18, and, yes, embarrassingly enough, that coincided with my having finally (!!) reached puberty (I think the body just needed me to reach the 7 lb or 16 inch height mark for the physical changes to start and that only happened when I was 18. And yes, that was why I finally hit my growth spurt then -- dont laugh, in my entire life, I have only grown 7 inches, so that the fact that I put on 2 inches in a period of three years should definitely be seen as a spurt!), when I turned 18 I asked my dad about getting a specialized car and driver's license. We looked into different possibilities, including even tiny-sized electric wheelchairs, but nothing even came close to being ideal for my size.

It's fine, Lauren has to use pedal extensions, and she drives me around alot. Lauren actually complains about having to have them but she knows she couldnt reach the pedals without them. When she has tutored Lexie in driving, Lexie not only has to take off the extensions but also has to remove the front seat just to fit in. (Don't let my Mom know, but even Lexie, who is still too young for an official driver's license in my state, has given me rides when she and her friends manage to "borrow" a car from someone.)

Inside cars I have to be strapped into a baby's seat, because I am easily thrown, but sometimes when one isnt available, I end up being "stuffed" into someone's shirt just to hold me tight. When that someone happens to be a pretty girl, I do not deny that my pleasure far exceeds the potential uncomfortableness of such a situation.

I should also mention that for years, at least until I was 20, but it still happens even nowadays, my parents would put me in a backpack to carry me around. This may sound cruel, or even funny, but it does work and I do not mind at all. I would prefer being held in front, rather than on the person's back, since then I have no chance to see over their shoulders or hair from behind. But no infant's baby-carrier is small enough for me, so Lexie loves to put me in her satchel which she can carry on the side or in front of her, for my benefit. I remember the first time her friends saw her do that with me, and, yes, of course they knew me, and considered me a cutie pie, beforehand, but they just went absolutely gaga to see me like that. What can I say? Tiny is the new cool.

Almost forgot the best part: sex and relationships. Difficult but not impossible. I will elaborate soon. To be continued...