So tomorrow the 3 older kids get to go with the grandmas until Sunday and the wife leaves Thursday for Nashville for MOPS convention (if you don’t know about MOPS, check them out. They are cool like a cucumber, which I have a few growing in my garden). Soooo, that leaves me and Eliza to chill here at the homestead. For 4 days. To do whatever we want.
Which means she will most likely scream at me if I try to give her any type of liquid. yay.
We have tried a few preliminary rounds of sippy cups and bottles. Nothing good has come of it yet. So guess who gets to eat a lot of soupy oatmeal?
I mean, the kid adores me. She is always happy to see me, loves playing with me, flirts more than her mom does with me, and loves to cuddle up. So just let me dump some fluid down your throat with out shooting it out of your nostrils at me. It’s not like I’m trying to poison you, I’m just trying to replenish those tears and snot you have streaming down your face. (so somewhere I went from talking about her to talking to her. Like she could read this). She is trying to talk. A lot. That is what I get for having 3 girls. Ian, want to head to Lowes and watch them make sawdust?
I don’t try to make interesting things happen when I am left with the kid(s), but usually something transpires. We’ll see what happens this time around. Preferably not a poop story. I have had my fair share of those. And just to see if we can help Google out, I really don’t want to see a blade runner coming out of my kid’s diaper.
Ok, Jason out.