And I say “we’re” because guess who got sick over the weekend? Mama. Of course, it was only a matter of time. At one point last week Leah actually stuck her sick, germy little hands in my mouth and grabbed my tongue. (Kids are the best). So I knew it was coming. And it did. I was sick from about 2am Saturday morning til 2am Sunday; 24 hour thing I suppose. It didn’t seem near as bad as Leah’s, but I can’t imagine it would have been anything else. After all, I didn’t go anywhere last week. I was trapped in this house with a little germ ball all week.
But anyways – we’re all recovered!
And that means… weaning!
Weaning from 24/7 TV, weaning from popsicles for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, weaning from taking up permanent residence on my hip, and weaning from getting whatever the heck she wants. It was a fun week, really it was, but we are healthy – and we are back to normal life! The weaning part of sickness is worse than the sickness itself. She’s just used to the TV being on, popsicles on command, and getting the full treatment – as she should be. I will always give all of my kids the full treatment when they’re sick, regardless of how much it sucks to get them back to normal. However, I know I’ve created this mess for myself – the whining, pointing to the TV and saying “on,” and going to the freezer non stop, and I know I’ve got to fix it. I have been strong today. No popsicles, one show, and I’ve retrained her to walk all by herself. Yay!
We even got to get out of the house together, man that was nice! Even if it was just to grocery shop. Last night we were driving home and I made some comment to Kyle about gas being $3.41, and “when did that happen?!” – he looked at me like I was crazy and literally asked if I had not noticed that before… no. I haven’t. I’ve been locked up with your sick kid for the past seven days. I have no need for gas. Thanks.
I will save my rant about this weeks upcoming Valentines Day for tomorrow. For now, I will share some pictures of my healthy, super funny little girl. And her dog.
Duncan was peacefully sleeping; Leah decided he wanted to chew his bone.
So she force fed him.
Can’t you just hear, “mommmmm, make her stopppp!”
She finally tamed the beast.
Funny; he’s 65lbs… she’s 25. She always gets him to do whatever she wants.
Then she covered them both up.
Gosh. We have a good, good dog. He could have easily bitten her face off (and had good reason!), but nope, he just let her pull his mouth apart and shove his bone in it.
Oh, and then she put this hat on and started poking him in the ears. (I stopped that, don’t worry).
“Is it her naptime yet, mom?”
Good boy, Duncan, good boy.