'Lessons'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Oh man, Beverly...vibing for the fever to go down, hoping that it killed off some bad stuff while leaving brain functions undamaged (moreso), and that the liquid thing gets solved. You are always in my thoughts.
What was the accident? All over trauma or specifically StE's head?
Closed head trauma, Raq. Motorbike accident, with helmet, plus bounce.
I'm sorry. If I don't make light, I don't get through. It doesn't mean I don't know how serious it is.
The "Let them get their own corpse" story got told at F2F, and I told the "Bread or milk?" story here in Bitches the other day. We're irreverent. It's how we get through. It can seem callous to people who don't know us.
Yay for porch-sitting JZ. It's a lovely porch, it is, full of leaf-rustle and birdsong, plus the crowd excitement if there's a game on today. Good for her for taking advantage of it, and good for you for urging her to do so.
Um. That's an interesting dating arrangement, there. How does Emmett feel about it?
We're irreverent. It's how we get through.
Amen to that. If it wasn't for my family's dry wit, I don't think any of us would have gotten through my grandfather's death.
Gram: The funniest thing happened. I tried to pay for the cremation and they said it was taken care of.
Uncle M: Wow. Imagine that.
Gram: Why did you do that?
Uncle M: Dad liked bonfires. I got him a big one. Early birthday gift.
Oh, Beverly, I'm so sorry things are so hard. May they find and cure that infection, and may he wake up, soon. Much love to you and yours.
No nursing before dinner (we weren't).
Milk instead of water with meals,Heh. Listen to your pedi rather than me. She knows knows medicine and Lillian. I know neither.
Re-weigh at 18 months, and if she's still off the charts, see a nutritionist.At her last well-baby visit, before the last few rounds of illness, was she on-the-charts-but-tiny? I honestly suspect illness is the culprit and she'll catch up on her own timetable, and it's something you'll just have to ride out. They'll probably send you to the nutritionist, who will tell you what to feed her, and she won't eat it unless she wants to. And time will pass, and she'll get over her suspicious-of-food phase, but may well stay picky.
Chris is a big boy now--six--and it still took over six months for him to regain the three or four pounds, and those few pounds were painfully obvious, when absent, and he's since grown a little, so they don't look like they're all back, even though they are. My theory is he ate enough to maintain the weight he'd reached, but didn't eat quite enough to regain what he'd lost (plus the weather turned and he was much more active).
My niece was so tiny it was worrisome to the extent that her pedi ordered a sweat test for Cystic Fibrosis. I think she was 12 pounds at one year (and she started out 5lbs 13oz or so, so she was a small baby, but not ridiculously so). She'll be fourteen in December, and is busty, hippy, and a bit thick in the middle.
One way to tempt kids to eat, sometimes, is to eat (like have a snack yourself), in their presence, and don't offer them any. They'll come over and beg, and you can "reluctantly" share.
Uncle M: Dad liked bonfires. I got him a big one. Early birthday gift.
Yes! This, exactly. (((Hugs Aimee tight))) I don't feel like such the lonely joke-cracking freak now.
We're irreverent. It's how we get through.
Yes, yes, yes to this.
Cindy's a sneaky mom. Those are the best kind.
Okay, I think I'm gonna go try and nap a little. Later, loves.
Yes! This, exactly. (((Hugs Aimee tight))) I don't feel like such the lonely joke-cracking freak now.
Oh gods, no. You can always make with the jokey with me.
(((Hugs Bev back)))
Uncle M: Dad liked bonfires. I got him a big one. Early birthday gift.*sniff*
{{{Bev&family}}}
Mom and Dad never pressured us into liking anything, but made us try all kinds of things, and there was never any picky eating. If we hated something (like I hate beets, but everyone else likes them) we didn't have to eat them...but there were no special meals. If we were having pot roast with potatoes and carrots, that was dinner. If you didn't like it, tough shit.
Yeah, my parents had fairly simple rules about dinner: 1. we had to try at least one bite of everything; 2. we had to eat everything we put on our plates; 3. we had to eat a full serving of veggies before getting dessert IF there was dessert (most of the time dessert was what my mom referred to as "imagination"); each kid was allowed one item to hate and be excused from eating, ever - my sister's was spinach, one brother's was mushrooms. Dishes with mushrooms included, mom made on nights when he was not going to be home for supper, or she simply left them out. I tried to make mine pepper, but that didn't work out so well. As I recall each of us kids had one or more sessions of being stuck sitting at the table staring at some portion of something that we didn't want to finish. If it had been up to my dad, we would have been stuck there overnight; my mom would compromise, and if it went on too long, would offer an early release, "Ok just take three more bites, and you can go."