Bad Mama, Bad Dada

Its surprising, really, the volume of effluent that will exit a child's mouth after dinner when tumbled about mirthfully on the living room rug. I kept thinking 'well, that must the last of it'. But lo and behold, the stomach contained more. Yes, oh yes, much more than anticipated. Two hands cupped below the puir wee bairn's mouth were a paltry attempt at containment, paltry. We have only ourselves to blame, of course. Why oh why did we forget the maxim: Thou shalt not toss thy child after a full dinner, especially over thy living room rug, or thou shalt pay the smelly consequences. Owen was remarkably even about it all. After the first batch: " I think that's it, Dada." And then after the second batch: " I thought that was it, Dada." He whimpered a little, poor soul, and I cannot blame him at all. We agreed that from here on in, stories read in cosy proximity on the couch after dinner was far more advisiable and probably less stinky too. Amen to that.


Earlier in the day, feisty O and I went for an amble in the " lie-down field" (although we did not lie down as is customary in the summer, due to the vast quantities of water and general uckiness about in the grass). We startled the mother deer and two yearlings that we have been watching now and then since last spring, and saw a large owl - twice. We are inclined to believe it was a Great Grey, but will defer to any authority on the matter. We investigated lichen on sticks, water droplets held by grass and leaves, swirling water in the stream, deer poo ('that's disgusting' said Owen), and substantial amounts of ice and puddles. A wonderful time was had by all.

Here are some picsh from today:







ADDENDUM: But wait! There's More!
Owen was ill again several times through the night. Carrie slept near him and I slept near Finney (no, really, I enjoy being repeatedly kicked in the head. I especially like the crying at 3 am when I say no to it). He was ill again just tonight after having juice for dinner (yep, that's it). Poor little tyke. But ha ha! One of the better things about an evolved species is the ability to learn from mistakes. I shot a bowl kept nearby just for the occasion under his nose as he pitched up while watching Monsters, Inc. We introduced Owen to the phrase 'couch potato' today (which is what he was) and he thought that a pretty funny thing to say. I am amazed how how quickly he has sprung back from throwing up. Within a couple of minutes he was saying he was hungry and whined about wanting his dinner when we were cautious about it with him. I remember throwing up after drinking too much in high school and feeling just like pond scum or the green slime that clings to an aquarium (well, our aquarium anyway). But then alcohol is actually poison isn't it? He is looking a bit better but still pale. One of us may very well stay home with him tomorrow rather than sending him off to purgatory, er, preschool.