Designer Breeds

First the cockapoo. Then the labradoodle and the goldenpoo (or goldendoodle). And now there's the puggle, shipoo, pomchi and a whole mix of mashed breed names. All formerly known as mixed breeds or even , dare I say, mutts.
But that's not the point. What I'm curious about is why we have not adopted this euphemism into other realms of life. When a interracial couple have a child, could we not just make up a brand new 'race'/name? And it could extend to intercultural children, or children with a range of ethnic backgrounds. Let's embrace this idea and imagine how quaint the world would be! Designer children with designer ethnic hertiage!
But then the question remains, who gets to make up these fun and quirky names? And what then happens if two (separate) designer-bred children then produce their own offspring?

Brave New World?

I was listening to the radio the other day and the topic of discussion was children and the workplace. This remarkably startling story was addressing the childcare "industry" in Australia and the practices taken by companies. In contrast to maternity leaves and such, companies now are offering bonuses and such for childless employees. There was a woman that was to move away for a year to work and only be allowed to see her family periodically, and never be in contact with her family during company time. All of this for the sake of more money.

But really this wasn't the startling thing to me. What creeped me out was the use of the Robby, a household robot that aids in childcare and rearing. These things are even in daycares. It would seem that parents are too tired for the 'tedious' task of caring for their children and must rely on a robot to do so. Immediately I began to think of the psychology experiment conducted years ago in which the need for tactile comfort from a 'mother' is needed:

" infant rhesus monkeys preferred surrogate mother objects providing contact comfort (frames covered with a terry cloth surface) to those providing nourishment (bare wire frames featuring a nipple and milk supply)."

And that's why the idea of a Robby concerns me. I'm not a person preaching about 'the wonders of childbirth' (how would I know?) but I do think that we should invest our own time to care for the children that are here.

if this seems all too cluttered - blame the humidity

Unwell or Unfit?

Yes, I laugh at farts. They don't even have to be my own and I seem to get amusement from the sound of them. And although this bit of information is not vital nor is it even relevant to the anecdote I am about to tell, it somehow speaks about my character and demonstrates exactly why I am sharing this info.
The last day or so I have been rather sick. Including the projectile vomiting that is so uncontrollable it is hard to catch my breath. And now as I begin to recover, I'm noticing the muscles in my stomach are aching. So the question is: are my stomach muscles achy from a bout of violent lurches and upheavals, or am I really that out of shape?