Water Baby


Dear diary,

Mama is full of surprises! Today we went in the car and stopped at a funny place. We went into a room with no windows and mama made me stay on one of those stupid fold-down changing tables. Then she put a funny diaper on me and a pair of shorts that felt weird.

We went into a bigger room that was really loud. There were LOTS of big kids jumping into the very biggest bathtub I’ve ever seen. And then, dear diary, mama took ME into a giant bathtub and – get this – she came in with me! It was really warm and there were other little kids like me in the bathtub with their mamas.

Mama says that we were at a swimming lesson. But I don’t know what that is, and I don’t know if I learned anything. I used a big yellow board to help hold up the octopus I found floating in the giant tub so I could chew on him while I floated too. For a while I laid on my back in the tub, too, but I couldn’t see enough things and kept craning my head backwards. Then my eyeballs were under water and I wasn’t sure I liked that so we went back to being on my tummy and using the board. I chewed on a turtle for the rest of the time. Mama says the tub is called a therapy pool. She uses weird words.

There was a man in the pool who kept talking to all the different babies and he told mama that I’m a water baby. I think I’m just a Finn baby, but it seemed to make mama happy to hear that. I sure do like going to this place.

Just before we got out of the tub/pool the man made the mamas sing a song about wheels on a bus. I was supposed to help with the actions but I was really busy holding the yellow board up so I couldn’t.

Back in the room with no windows mama and I took a shower, which is just like my squirty bottle in the tub at home and I really liked that part too. I hope we go back really soon.

Your water baby,

Squeaky Clean


Dear diary,

A ton of super awesome stuff has been happening in my world this week and I’ve just been far too busy enjoying most of it to write to you. I’m really sorry.

One of the things I love the most (besides doggies and kitties and mama and daddy) is BATH TIME. Holy cow. Every night mama and daddy take me upstairs before bed and we play find my feet, and I pet kitty on the bed even though she sometimes yells at me, and they zerbert my belly AND my back, and then I get to go in the tub.

As soon as I get in the tub I kick my feet like crazy to make waves, and then I smash my hands into the water. Until this week the very best part of my bath was the sprinkler thingy at the end, which always makes me squeal. But then this week, oh diary, this week everything changed.

I got in the tubby and there.were.toys. TOYS in my bath tub. I grabbed at them and they had water in them! And mama squished one and it spit at me which was about the funniest thing ever. Diary, being sick has been no fun at all but those toys made my whole night. Plus, I played so hard with them that afterward I slept the whole night through.

Squeaky clean,

Sick Days


Dear diary,

It looks like these entries aren’t just between you and I, because mama says people want to hear from me more often. She says they maybe look like I do in this picture when I don’t write to you.

I’m sorry it’s been so long since we talked. I’ve been sick and all I wanted to do was cuddly with my mama in the rocking chair and sleep. She says I was a “pitiful Velcro-y leech,” whatever that means. I’m feeling a lot better now even though I still cough a lot.

I have lots to share with you from this past week, stuff I did in the moments when I felt good, thoughts I’m thinking in my brainium. That sort of thing.


Unjustly Accosted


Dear diary,

Stuff keeps coming out of my nose today. At first I thought it was funny and kept reaching up to smear it around and at with it. Now it just makes me mad. Every time I sneeze mama says “ewwww” and viciously attacks my face. I have been accosted more times today than I feel was strictly necessary.

Furthermore, I don’t want to play. I don’t want to do anything but snuggle with mama and daddy or sleep. Oh, but playing with kitty was also fun. For a second.

Mama says I’m sick. I don’t know if I should feel insulted. She says my cough is barky, but I don’t think it sounds anything like my doggies.

Whatever is happening, I hope it stops soon because it makes it hard for me to be my cheery self, and daddy says I look like one of Santa’s elves with my rosy cheeks. Silly daddy. I’m already too big to be an elf.

Snottily yours,

Sticking With Mama


Dear diary,

I don’t know what exactly is happening to me. I know I don’t like it AT ALL. Yesterday mama took me to the place where they strip me to my diaper, and some lady stuck a bottlebrush up my nose. I screamed at her, but then she smiled at me and I couldn’t resist smiling back at her.

All day yesterday and overnight I have stuck with mama. I yell at her if she puts me down because I don’t feel good and I just want her.

The only good thing that has happened is I didn’t have to eat carrots yesterday.


Safe Bet


Dear diary,

Today I decided to play it safe with mama and be a super extra good boy, just to be SURE she doesn’t leave me again.

I ate all of my first breakfast. I played in bouncy and laughed and giggled lots to make sure she thought I was cute. I laughed extra hard when she made stupid faces at me.

I also tried really hard to just buckle down and eat the stupid carrots (did I tell you I figured out that orange cereal is just cereal with CARROTS in it?!) but then I noticed that amazing strap on my high chair… Do you see this thing? Who can concentrate on carrots when this strap is RIGHT THERE waiting for them??

Anyway… For some reason mama didn’t make me eat all the carrots. She threw her hands up in the air (but she didn’t wave ’em like she didn’t care) and unbuckled me to let me play.

Still a good boy,

Close Call


Dear diary,

Yesterday something went terribly wrong. I don’t know whether or not it was my reaction to carrots the day before, or whether I did something else to offend her, mama was gone the entire day. I thought I heard her voice when I woke up in the morning, but daddy came to get me and I didn’t see her. I waited for her all day, looking out the window and refusing to go to sleep in case I missed her. By the end of the day I gave up hope that she was ever coming back and subsided into sleep reluctantly.

Shortly thereafter I dreamed that she was home, and woke up crying. Miracle of miracles, she appeared and rocked me back to sleep. I woke up five more times last night just to make sure that she was still there, and was relieved each time to find her beside me.

This morning she did not participate in our morning chat the way she usually does, rather her eyes were closed and she mumbled at me. I don’t understand why. I gave up and decided to talk with Charlotte instead.




Dear diary,

It appears that my protest may, in fact, be working. I count yesterday as a victory. She fed me the delicious cereal not once, but TWICE in the same day. The first bowl was a funny orange color and tasted a bit different than it usually does, but since I love cereal I ate it with gusto. She seemed inordinately pleased by this, jumping around and telling daddy she had won. I don’t see how that can be, since she didn’t even try to get me to eat disgusting carrots. But I’m willing to let her think that.




Dear diary,

The situation is becoming untenable. In addition to persisting with the “food” she has discovered an entirely new offense to perpetrate against me.

Today, as I was playing, she approached me with what appeared to be a bottle. I eagerly took this from her, but quickly realized that while it resembled that comforting object, it was filled with a clear, tasteless substance and had a hard nipple on which to bite.

Understandably, I hurled this at her without a second thought. She left me to my playing then, but a few minutes ago she tried again. As you can see I did give it a close inspection, but it did not pass muster. This time I threw it at the floor

I shall continue my resistance in earnest and I hope that tomorrow I will write you with better news.


Fresh, Orange Hell


Dear diary,

Oh, what fresh hell is this? In an obscene attempt at humor, today she has dressed me in orange with an orange bib, and is now trying to force me to eat orange food from an orange spoon.

Having just resigned myself to the pears, I am aghast that she is attempting this, and fully intend to file a formal complaint with the management of this establishment.

Until tomorrow,