By late afternoon we were able to get G to place both feet flat on the ground and tell him "flat feet, flat feet" to remind him to walk that way. He needed cueing for a couple of hours.
It was like he needed a reminder that the pain was gone and the auto tip-toe walk was not necessary. Odd. Still eating and drinking well. Being a goof as usual.
He and T are in the basement rocking to daddy's new receiver, listening to Paramore n BOB Airplanes & Eminem n Rihanna Love the Way You Lie. Two of T's favs for a while now. Thanks alot daddy! Even G is singing, "wish ry noooww". Cracks me up.
So the day did get better. The worries minimized as the day went on.
But now I gotta go save them from California girls-Katy Perry. Racey, raging, teenie-bopper, hormone-boosting tune, not needed in my home!
Keep your fingers crossed no crazy fevers or other crap creeps up overnite so we can all go to Toy Story on Ice. Even rice baby Caden coming along. I insist he gets out, too! The kid seems to only inhale Bryley fumes, my gross leftovers and sad attempts at remembering how to cook, lysol and poopy diapers. He needs fresh Chicago polluted air, just like the rest of us! To the ice!!!!
Our own lil superhero!
Dick Grayson ain't got nothin' on the G-man. Our lil fighter since in utero-a young, fiesty fireball...never giving up! Just watch me!
No comments:
Post a Comment