Baby Num Nums and Such Things
Not too much to report on today – just a quiet Sunday at home. Did some laundry. Watched the commentary track on the This Is Spinal Tap DVD – it’s the boys in character, commenting on their younger selves. Boy howdy did I squeeze every drop of available entertainment from that disc. Unless there were buried Easter Eggs I couldn’t find, I watched every extra on the thing, even commercials I remember seeing on TV when it first came out.
Last night we went out for poker en famille. Mama Dog went back and forth about a half dozen times on whether or not she was going to go, but did in the end. She’s rather nervous about taking Baby Dog to poker, a legitimate worry as half the host homes are not baby-ready. You don’t realise how much infrastructure is required for a satisfactory baby outing until you have spawn of your own. Things worked out pretty well, though. Mama Dog skipped the first part of the game to nurse. Then, in the absence of a crib, we laid the wee one down in her stroller and I rocked her back and forth at the table while we played cards. When the cranky hour arrived, I wheeled her off to a back hall and lulled her to sleep with my patented Papa Dog Susurration System. Once she conked out, I wheeled her into the office, dimmed the light, pulled the door to as a pet barrier (three cats and two dogs in the house in question), and went back to the game. In all, I think I only missed three or four hands.
Have I mentioned that Baby Dog is eating solids now? She is. She started with rice cereal, which is pretty boring. Mama Dog later tried her out on bananas, which she didn’t seem to care for, but Osterised pumpkin was a surprise hit. Yams also went over well. And bananas seemed to work on second try the other day.
The funny thing about spoon-feeding a baby is that it evidently can’t be done without activating a “talk like an idiot” reflex. “Want some more? Want some more? Ohhhh, goodgoodgoodgoodgoodgoodgood! Numnumnumnumnumnumnum! Here we go! Good food! Yes! Goodgood food! Mmmmmm! Gooooood!” You don’t even know you’re doing it until the neighbours start to complain.
Last night we went out for poker en famille. Mama Dog went back and forth about a half dozen times on whether or not she was going to go, but did in the end. She’s rather nervous about taking Baby Dog to poker, a legitimate worry as half the host homes are not baby-ready. You don’t realise how much infrastructure is required for a satisfactory baby outing until you have spawn of your own. Things worked out pretty well, though. Mama Dog skipped the first part of the game to nurse. Then, in the absence of a crib, we laid the wee one down in her stroller and I rocked her back and forth at the table while we played cards. When the cranky hour arrived, I wheeled her off to a back hall and lulled her to sleep with my patented Papa Dog Susurration System. Once she conked out, I wheeled her into the office, dimmed the light, pulled the door to as a pet barrier (three cats and two dogs in the house in question), and went back to the game. In all, I think I only missed three or four hands.
Have I mentioned that Baby Dog is eating solids now? She is. She started with rice cereal, which is pretty boring. Mama Dog later tried her out on bananas, which she didn’t seem to care for, but Osterised pumpkin was a surprise hit. Yams also went over well. And bananas seemed to work on second try the other day.
The funny thing about spoon-feeding a baby is that it evidently can’t be done without activating a “talk like an idiot” reflex. “Want some more? Want some more? Ohhhh, goodgoodgoodgoodgoodgoodgood! Numnumnumnumnumnumnum! Here we go! Good food! Yes! Goodgood food! Mmmmmm! Gooooood!” You don’t even know you’re doing it until the neighbours start to complain.
posted by PapaDogDuvalier | 7:49 PM
1 Comments:
You know, the results of your current poll are so unsettling that you should have an entry allowing voters to give justification of their horrifying choices. Like, me, I voted for Michael Jackson. He's a confirmed loon and an alleged pederast, but he's more likely to be gentle with a kid and do no harm to one under his present circumstances than say Mommie Dearest or Der Furher. Especially since I'm, ethnicly speaking, a Jew.
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