… a few Saltines and cups of ginger ale must fall.
At about 1 o'clock this morning my littlest fella, my little go box carrying
, pesto lovin
' bunny, began throwing up.
There is no polite way to say that is there? I tried, really I did, but although there are many MANY synonyms, none of them are real sweet.
He's been fine since that first episode though. Warm, but no sick tummy.
Frankly, he's milking it for all it's worth. He's fully enjoying the endless cartoons on Papa's computer, and the steady stream of head rubbing and clear liquids being lavished upon him. He even thinks that it's great fun to have that bowl next to him. Oh the suspense, the drama, the excitement of being "He Who Must Not Be Far From the Bowl."
For the mama though, it is never fun when your little guy is feeling bad. It is even less fun in the middle of the night. It is even LESS less fun, when it happens on the day of your other little man's first guitar recital, the day before you are supposed to leave town for a family reunion.
NO NO NO!!!!
If you are of the praying persuasion, this is where I
beg ask you to lift up the Blue Yonder gang.
We need a little guy to feel better fast.
We need his brothers to steer clear of these germs.
We need a little guitar hero to be able to relax, enjoy and celebrate the first of what I'm sure will be many rocking performances.
I need a nap 🙂 And maybe some chocolate.
and the Blue Yonder Boys