The things you pick up. I was getting ready to go out last night when you came into the bathroom and said:
"I don't wanna play computer games wit Daddy anymo. It suck."
It suck? We'll need to work on our grammar. It sucks.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
A sense of humour
Quite the joke teller, this line of jokes was developed over the weekend.
Knock, knock!"I made dat up mysewf!"
Who's there?
Bum.
Bum who?
Bummy Dad! (Hysterical laughter.)
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Happy Easter, little critter!
We have two Easter books. One is Happy Easter, little critter! by Mercer Mayer and the other is The Bunnyhop, a Sesame Street book. Story time before bed is always applicable to the season, so the little critter book has been read almost every night for the past few weeks. So much so that everytime we say "Happy Easter" you throw in "little critter." Like the two just can't be apart.
The lead up to Easter has been almost as exciting as Christmas. You are a candy fiend. Always have been. When we went grocery shopping last week, you took both your dad and I - separately - to oogle over the Easter candy. "Easter Bunny bring dat," you tell us. Fortunately you think that the candy is not available for purchase by common folks like us. That we will have to wait until Easter time.
Last week Auntie Norma came for a visit. And she came bearing some lovely gifts, including some special Easter treats and an egg purse from Auntie Connie and cousin Kelsey. There were large, chocolate eggs you could paint and an Easter bunny M&M filled with, what else, little M&Ms. So it began...
Then Nanny took you Easter shopping for candy coated chocolate eggs, Easter M&Ms, a large Dora the Explorer chocolate figure, a crunchy, chocolate bunny jumping out of a magician's hat AND a bunny each for me and Dad. No, I'm serious - and she left them all at our house. Then you accompanied her to the SALPN office where they gave you a bag of jelly beans. Last night, Uncle Nigel dropped off some Easter mini eggs and a cow and pig that oink and moo. Today, Creeson has put together a little Easter Pooh Bear bag of goodies, with pink jelly beans included! And we haven't even been to Grandma and Grandpa's house yet!
Doesn't leave much for the Easter Bunny to bring. (But I got a tip that she sewed you your Easter basket that you can later use as a little purse. Fancy, eh?)
I have a feeling I'll be making monster cookies with the little M&Ms, maybe even some fancy pancakes. For the rest of it, I can't imagine what we're going to do with it but I'm hoping that we'll pass out in sugar comas before we could possibly eat it all.
Happy Easter, little critter. And happy first day of spring. Yippee!
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Warning: details of explicit bodily functions revealed
It has been the worst week of your life. On Monday evening, Nigel and Jessica stopped by for a bit. You were playing with the cow when I asked where meatballs come from. Your odd reply, "Cows poop little meatballs out their bum." Ewww. Shortly after that, you walked over to me and threw up. It seemed like a minor blip so you went back to playing with our guests while Dad and I cleaned up.
Right after everyone left, the real fun began. Non-stop vomiting all night. Okay, not all night but every few minutes until 10 p.m. and then every hour or so after that. Dad stayed home Tuesday. Tuesday and Wednesday were your worst days because that's when the diarrhea began. We were up to our armpits in sludge-like poop and acidic vomit. The washing machine barely stopped running, full of towels and sheets and clothes and bathmats.
The saddest part was that for over two days, you were so weak that you couldn't smile, walk or talk.
At 5:28 a.m. on Thursday, you woke up after sleeping 94% of the previous 60 hours and said, "I feel better now. Warm milk!" And you kinda did feel better, but it sure wasn't over. It seemed every time I picked you up you'd puke on me or fill your pants with the foulest-smelling mud. You could walk, but not far without tipping over.
Fortunately Dad was home with you again on Friday. You took it easy. You scared me when Dad phoned me at work in a panic to tell me you'd been howling in pain for half an hour, saying your bum hurt, but you must have just been tired. You passed out in the high chair while Dad was getting you warm milk so Dad didn't need to phone me back and tell me to come home. Of course, that warm milk came back up in an obscene quantity just as we were going to sit down for supper, soaking me, you and landing us in the shower. (And before that you produced the oddest-looking white poop in the toilet, but at least it was solid. White, I assume, from the only thing you will drink, milk.) After all the bodily expulsions, you felt good enough to eat something, the only thing you'd eaten in four days - tomato soup. Except you spilled your first bowl of soup all over your very clean and fresh pajamas. So is the mess that our week has been.
Today has been good. You woke up at 6:15 a.m. demanding donuts of all things. Kept saying, "Let's go make donuts, Mom." You are chipper and funny, yelling at Dad and picking on Skye like you'd never missed a beat. You ate breakfast, a few bites of egg and bacon smeared with peanut butter. You took a couple bites of soup for lunch. You were very excited to add to the grocery list: ice cream, watermelon, donuts, chips, butter, hot dogs and noodles. As soon as we got home, you had chips, a hot dog, some sour cream and corn at supper, a sprinkle donut for dessert and a little bit of watermelon for bedtime snack. Yes, not the healthiest choices but I'd do anything to make you happy today.
I'm so glad you are feeling better.
Right after everyone left, the real fun began. Non-stop vomiting all night. Okay, not all night but every few minutes until 10 p.m. and then every hour or so after that. Dad stayed home Tuesday. Tuesday and Wednesday were your worst days because that's when the diarrhea began. We were up to our armpits in sludge-like poop and acidic vomit. The washing machine barely stopped running, full of towels and sheets and clothes and bathmats.
The saddest part was that for over two days, you were so weak that you couldn't smile, walk or talk.
At 5:28 a.m. on Thursday, you woke up after sleeping 94% of the previous 60 hours and said, "I feel better now. Warm milk!" And you kinda did feel better, but it sure wasn't over. It seemed every time I picked you up you'd puke on me or fill your pants with the foulest-smelling mud. You could walk, but not far without tipping over.
Fortunately Dad was home with you again on Friday. You took it easy. You scared me when Dad phoned me at work in a panic to tell me you'd been howling in pain for half an hour, saying your bum hurt, but you must have just been tired. You passed out in the high chair while Dad was getting you warm milk so Dad didn't need to phone me back and tell me to come home. Of course, that warm milk came back up in an obscene quantity just as we were going to sit down for supper, soaking me, you and landing us in the shower. (And before that you produced the oddest-looking white poop in the toilet, but at least it was solid. White, I assume, from the only thing you will drink, milk.) After all the bodily expulsions, you felt good enough to eat something, the only thing you'd eaten in four days - tomato soup. Except you spilled your first bowl of soup all over your very clean and fresh pajamas. So is the mess that our week has been.
Today has been good. You woke up at 6:15 a.m. demanding donuts of all things. Kept saying, "Let's go make donuts, Mom." You are chipper and funny, yelling at Dad and picking on Skye like you'd never missed a beat. You ate breakfast, a few bites of egg and bacon smeared with peanut butter. You took a couple bites of soup for lunch. You were very excited to add to the grocery list: ice cream, watermelon, donuts, chips, butter, hot dogs and noodles. As soon as we got home, you had chips, a hot dog, some sour cream and corn at supper, a sprinkle donut for dessert and a little bit of watermelon for bedtime snack. Yes, not the healthiest choices but I'd do anything to make you happy today.
I'm so glad you are feeling better.
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