Morning Workout: 5 miles @ 39’42”
Happy Thursday, Fancy Oatmeal readers! This morning’s run was a glorious one, and I almost wished that I hadn’t started so late because I felt like I could have kept right on running for another 40 minutes. Those runs are few and far between lately, so I’ll savor the serenity that this run brought me.
An interesting this is occurring lately at our school. Our high schoolers have sprouted off-spring and have been bringing them to class. I assume this is because they are so inspired by my greatness and educational leadership that they want the babies to be exposed as early as possible. This is what I assume, and you all know what that means!
Welcome to class, Jarren!
It’s that wonderful time of the year again when the Child Development students receive their electronic babies that eat, sleep, cry, do their business on an erratic schedule. This little fella is Jarren, and his mother is a Junior in my English class. Right in the middle of an explanation as to the importance of Iago’s monologue, I hear the fussings and then sobs from the little lad, as it was lunchtime. All the students in the class are required to keep their babies with them at all times, day and night, class time or relaxation time. They wear a bracelet that looks like Lindsay Lohan’s house arrest anklet to stay in constant connection with their infants. When it’s been feeding time, the teen mommy (I can’t imagine why the boys didn’t sign up for this social awkwardness) has to stop what she’s doing in class, feed her baby and burp him, all in real time.I tell you, I don’t know if all that cooing/crying has encouraged towards Mommyhood, or savor the quiet nights where the only electronic bleeps are from Dear Hubby completing another campaign in Modern Warfare.
We did not have dolls like these when I was in my own Health/Home Ec. class, but I sort of wish I had. It would be an interesting experiment to allow wanna-be parents to take care of a bionic baby for a week, or a month. I know that a plastic baby doesn’t come close to simulating the real emotions and fatigue that come along with parenthood, but at least it’s better than jumping in feet first; BTW if you’re doing it that way, I don’t think you have to worry about a baby.