Dieting

As it turns out, dieting is good both for the budget (two weeks later, Eska is still working through a 5-lb bag of Taste of the Wild it usually took her about a week to devour entirely) and for the manners.

Natbat stayed with me in Baltimore this past week and insisted that no table scraps be part of Eska's diet. Not relying on human food, she said, would make my girl a more peaceful eater and would allow me better to appreciate my meals.

She was right. Admittedly, it was difficult, in the first few days, to avoid the increasingly tremulous barks at the dinner table that screamed, "bitch, where's my steak?" and "how come I don't get any spinach." Now that she's gotten used to having hard-asses around, my girl seems to have calmed down in the food department a little. She even begs less than she did a week ago.

I'm not sure how long this good behaviour will last. The best thing about dieting (which neither Natbat nor I anticipated), however, was the effect it would have on Eska's immediate social skills: today, she calmly lay down beside me while I heated up - and didn't share - leftover rice for lunch. She didn't even whine when I didn't give her any.

My poor little baby shoo - she knows I don't like to eat alone. She just wanted to keep the ma company.

Or, more likely, she hoped the ma would change her mind and be swayed by the baby's excellent disposition.

The worst thing about dieting is the hunger. Yesterday, Eska fished out a stale loaf of bread from the garbage while I put Auntie Natbat in a cab to Penn Station. She didn't even bother knocking the whole thing over as she usually does: she went straight for the goods. Poor baby on her poor empty stomach.

Whatever. As long as these eating habits stay good for my wallet, we're sticking with them.