Dear Diary,
I am a month old! Hard to believe it's been that long already. Quite an exciting milestone.
To celebrate, my Caretakers finally brought me out of the house, and I made quite the amazing discovery. Whereas when they take me out of one room to another in the house, and I can still see the walls, outside the house I cannot see the walls! It's almost as if there are no walls!
In the same way, I cannot see the ceiling! I love staring at the fan and the lights on the ceiling. Outside, I can see the big light up on the big blue ceiling, or what my Caretakers are calling the sky, but I cannot see what it attaches to! It's as if it is just hanging there, far out of reach.
And it is sooo big outside, that people get in cars to drive around! I wish we had those inside the house. But the Caretakers don't have a big enough house, unfortunately.
It is a wondrous place outside the house, dear diary. I can't wait to explore it more, and hope very much that my Caretakers make our outings more frequently.
Monday, November 11, 2013
Baby Journal: Day 25
Dear Diary,
Today I had the most disturbing experience. I woke up in the afternoon, apparently I had fallen asleep for a nap. My Caretakers must have moved me into the bedroom, because I found myself in the crib. I let them know I was awake, but heard no response.
That is right, dear Diary, the worst had happened: While I slept, my Caretakers had ceased to exist! As I listened to the silence, I knew it was my fault. I had failed to watch them for too long. Since I was asleep, they were not needed, and because they were not needed, they ceased to exist.
Distraught, I raised my voice in lament, crying out against the cruelty of the universe, that would take my Caretakers from me on a whim. Suddenly, they reappeared! Just like that, called back into existence by my own voice, they were gathering me up and assuring me everything was OK. It was as if for them nothing had happened. To this day they seem unaware of their temporary non-existence.
But I will not make the same mistake again. From now on, I vow to not nap, or sleep at all. I will do my best to stay awake. And I will be sure to call out to them, whenever they are out of sight, so that they will never be unneeded for too long. I know they may not understand, but it is for their own good.
Today I had the most disturbing experience. I woke up in the afternoon, apparently I had fallen asleep for a nap. My Caretakers must have moved me into the bedroom, because I found myself in the crib. I let them know I was awake, but heard no response.
That is right, dear Diary, the worst had happened: While I slept, my Caretakers had ceased to exist! As I listened to the silence, I knew it was my fault. I had failed to watch them for too long. Since I was asleep, they were not needed, and because they were not needed, they ceased to exist.
Distraught, I raised my voice in lament, crying out against the cruelty of the universe, that would take my Caretakers from me on a whim. Suddenly, they reappeared! Just like that, called back into existence by my own voice, they were gathering me up and assuring me everything was OK. It was as if for them nothing had happened. To this day they seem unaware of their temporary non-existence.
But I will not make the same mistake again. From now on, I vow to not nap, or sleep at all. I will do my best to stay awake. And I will be sure to call out to them, whenever they are out of sight, so that they will never be unneeded for too long. I know they may not understand, but it is for their own good.
Friday, November 8, 2013
Baby Journal: Day 23
Dear Diary,
I am beginning to have some serious doubts about my Caretakers. For the most part, they are still very helpful and do what I want. But there is one area in particular where they are failing miserably to pick up on a very simple concept, and I am worried it may be a sign of a bigger problem.
I'm talking about bottle feeding, of course. Thankfully, this is not a regular occurrence. That plastic device is really not my preferred way of eating, but sometimes it just has to be done. I understand this. What I do not understand is why they have such a hard time giving me the proper amount of food.
When I'm hungry, I tell them, and I let them know how hungry I am. For example, let's say I want 4.2 ounces. I tell them this. They get the bottle, they feed me, but inevitably there's not 4.2 ounces, there's only 4.1! Unacceptable! I let them know this, every time, but they always seem confused.
"What's wrong?" "Is it your diaper?" "Do you not like the food?"
No I like it, but I'm hungry! I said 4.2 ounces, not 4.1! You don't see me serving you 4/5th's of a hamburger, do you??
If they just did it every time with no reaction, I would chalk it up to sick humor or something. But their confusion each time, I wonder if I have been saddled with Caretakers who have failed their basic training courses. Hopefully this is the worst of their flaws.
I am beginning to have some serious doubts about my Caretakers. For the most part, they are still very helpful and do what I want. But there is one area in particular where they are failing miserably to pick up on a very simple concept, and I am worried it may be a sign of a bigger problem.
I'm talking about bottle feeding, of course. Thankfully, this is not a regular occurrence. That plastic device is really not my preferred way of eating, but sometimes it just has to be done. I understand this. What I do not understand is why they have such a hard time giving me the proper amount of food.
When I'm hungry, I tell them, and I let them know how hungry I am. For example, let's say I want 4.2 ounces. I tell them this. They get the bottle, they feed me, but inevitably there's not 4.2 ounces, there's only 4.1! Unacceptable! I let them know this, every time, but they always seem confused.
"What's wrong?" "Is it your diaper?" "Do you not like the food?"
No I like it, but I'm hungry! I said 4.2 ounces, not 4.1! You don't see me serving you 4/5th's of a hamburger, do you??
If they just did it every time with no reaction, I would chalk it up to sick humor or something. But their confusion each time, I wonder if I have been saddled with Caretakers who have failed their basic training courses. Hopefully this is the worst of their flaws.
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Baby Journal: Day 10
Dear Diary,
I am now ten days old. I'd like to think things are going well so far. I've got a good grasp on things, and am certain that soon I will be a master of everything, just as my Caretakers are.
In general, I am happy with my Caretakers. They respond quickly to my requests, and appear to genuinely care about me. I do have some concerns, however. They seem to make light of a few of the predicaments I have already encountered in my short existence.
Take, for example, the fact that my internal combustion engine seems to set off near-lethal explosions on a regular basis. A few times these explosions, which always originate near my bottom, have even woken me from deep slumber. As you can imagine, this is quite disturbing! I fear that if I do not get these explosions under control, they may do real harm. I'm worried that my bottom may blow clear off of me.
But my Caretakers, they do not share my concerns! In fact, they even laugh when it happens! Perhaps they do not care as much as I thought, and are just hoping that my defective system will soon spell an end for me. I will have to keep an eye on them.
Wish me luck, dear diary.
I am now ten days old. I'd like to think things are going well so far. I've got a good grasp on things, and am certain that soon I will be a master of everything, just as my Caretakers are.
In general, I am happy with my Caretakers. They respond quickly to my requests, and appear to genuinely care about me. I do have some concerns, however. They seem to make light of a few of the predicaments I have already encountered in my short existence.
Take, for example, the fact that my internal combustion engine seems to set off near-lethal explosions on a regular basis. A few times these explosions, which always originate near my bottom, have even woken me from deep slumber. As you can imagine, this is quite disturbing! I fear that if I do not get these explosions under control, they may do real harm. I'm worried that my bottom may blow clear off of me.
But my Caretakers, they do not share my concerns! In fact, they even laugh when it happens! Perhaps they do not care as much as I thought, and are just hoping that my defective system will soon spell an end for me. I will have to keep an eye on them.
Wish me luck, dear diary.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Fun with Labels
"Read the Labels" seems to be a great bit of wisdom these days. It particularly pertains to food. Want to know what you're eating? Read the label. Doing a diet? Read the label. Have allergies? Read the label.
The label can also help you figure out exactly what is meant by the front of the packaging. Take Swedish Fish, for example. I love them, one of my favorite candies since ever. The bag of them that I just finished says on the front, "A Fat Free Food."
Let's think about that for minute. What does food mean, in this case? The Label, which we are generally recommend to read, tells us that it is 140 calories per serving of 19 fish. It's pretty much all sugar. In fact, it says "Not a significant source of calories from fat, saturated fat, trans fat, cholesterol, dietary fiber, vitamin A, vitamin C, calcium, and iron." I think this could also be stated as "Not a significant source of any real nutrition."
And yet they call it food. In my mind, food is something I would eat for a meal, and consider myself satisfied and at least remotely healthy when done (yes this means much of "fast food" also isn't food, by this definition. I admit it doesn't stop me from eating it, though). Thus, my beloved swedish fish is candy, not food. At least not to my mind. The Label is basically telling me that if I make a major diet out of this stuff, the results will not be beneficial to my health.
So I get a real kick that in highlight on the front it says it's a fat free food. The Label supports the fat free part at least, notice all the fats it wants to make clear are not in the "food." So I guess maybe this is a food because it has no fat? Not sure.
In any case, the stuff tastes good. Hmmm. Maybe I should tell my doctor to start a new diet fad: Swedish Fish! They are, after all, fat free food! And surely the company couldn't call them food if you shouldn't actually make them part of your dinner, right?
The label can also help you figure out exactly what is meant by the front of the packaging. Take Swedish Fish, for example. I love them, one of my favorite candies since ever. The bag of them that I just finished says on the front, "A Fat Free Food."Let's think about that for minute. What does food mean, in this case? The Label, which we are generally recommend to read, tells us that it is 140 calories per serving of 19 fish. It's pretty much all sugar. In fact, it says "Not a significant source of calories from fat, saturated fat, trans fat, cholesterol, dietary fiber, vitamin A, vitamin C, calcium, and iron." I think this could also be stated as "Not a significant source of any real nutrition."
And yet they call it food. In my mind, food is something I would eat for a meal, and consider myself satisfied and at least remotely healthy when done (yes this means much of "fast food" also isn't food, by this definition. I admit it doesn't stop me from eating it, though). Thus, my beloved swedish fish is candy, not food. At least not to my mind. The Label is basically telling me that if I make a major diet out of this stuff, the results will not be beneficial to my health.
So I get a real kick that in highlight on the front it says it's a fat free food. The Label supports the fat free part at least, notice all the fats it wants to make clear are not in the "food." So I guess maybe this is a food because it has no fat? Not sure.
In any case, the stuff tastes good. Hmmm. Maybe I should tell my doctor to start a new diet fad: Swedish Fish! They are, after all, fat free food! And surely the company couldn't call them food if you shouldn't actually make them part of your dinner, right?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)