Now that we have two kids under the age of 5, puke probably should not surprise me. The smell, however, always gets me.
Our oldest son will be three in about two weeks, and the poor kid has the worst gag reflex. He can cough too hard and puke. The youngest is closing in on three months old, and occasionally spits up but nothing too terribly bad. I really don’t know that I could handle a chronic spitter-upper or one with projectile vomit.
Yesterday the four of us ventured out to go buy a new toilet – and that could be a story of its own, but it was a pretty simple task – and then go to the farm and feed cows. All went well until we were headed back to the house. Shaun wanted a drink and we’d saved his take-out cup from the night before. He got his drink and handed it back to Dad. Then all hell broke loose. He started crying and by the look of terror in his eyes, I knew something was wrong. I pulled over immediately and was about to get out of the pickup to get him out of his seat. My husband asked him what was wrong and if he could breathe. He said no. A few more seconds went by and here comes the puke. Luckily we were very close to where my husband works and we got him cleaned up. The car seat, however, may never be the same. We washed the cover and Lysoled it best we could for the ride home. Today at lunch time, the inside of my pickup reeked, and that cover is going straight in the washer when I get home!
After washing nearly everything in the pickup that was covered with puke, I thought my laundry was done last night. Nope, Chance had to spit up practically everything he consumed at 5:30 this morning. No crying from him though. He was happily laying in the wetness watching his noisemaker in his crib when I went to check on him before going to work. If only the oldest was that easy-going!
I really don’t know what it is about puke that resonates in my nose. I’m tempted to get masks to keep in the pickup and in the house so I can put those on and ward off the offending odor. Of course, the boys might get scared of the masked lady trying to clean them up.. At least I won’t have to smell puke for the rest of the day!
At least he’s cute, no matter how big a mess he can make.
I’ve worked at home for the last two days, and with young kids that’s quite the fete. My oldest had been asking to go to Grandma’s and when she called yesterday and wanted to pick him up, I gladly sent him on his way. The youngest slept basically all afternoon in his swing, and I actually got to sit down and write a story for work. Midday, I decided to go take some photos to accompany the story I was working on. Since it was muddy when I woke up Thursday, my first stop outside was the rain gauge. I was shocked to find an inch of rain in the gauge, and then thanked the Lord for the moisture. It was glorious even though I didn’t even get to hear it come down during the night.
My second stop for photos was out in the horse pasture. The mares were out eating all the green sprigs coming up, and since I hoped to get them eating off a round bale I tricked them by putting some grain on the bale. Shhh.. Don’t tell our readers! While I was waiting on them to come up, I gazed at the sky and admired all the beautiful clouds against the blue sky. I turned around and saw the sky and clouds making a pretty photo behind the windmill. It turned out pretty darn nice!
There’s just something about clouds, sunsets and sunrises that make my heart sing. I scroll through my photos, and if it isn’t a horse or kid, it’s of the sky. Not sure why I take so many pics of the heavens, but I don’t see it stopping anytime soon..
Massive storm cloud southeast of my house April 23.
Blue sky, clouds and windmills. What else do you need for a photo?
I’ve been trying to write something about the loss of my sister’s horse for a month now, as words have escaped me. I finally sat down and just did it.
Horses come in all shapes and colors, and there’s likely one that will be pretty to someone. My sister got a gray gelding probably 7 or 8 years ago, and he was the prettiest gray I’d seen in a long time. He always managed to grow the longest mane and tail. Granted it was a pain to deal with at times, but it was long and flowing. His gray coat changed colors several times throughout the year, almost as if he was a chameleon.
Okie spent some time on the race track and a ranch. He was the kind of horse you could climb on and ride with no issues. When my horse had colic surgery in 2006 I borrowed my sisters horse Star first so I had something to ride and occupy my time. Okie later came to stay with me and I really enjoyed getting to know him and ride him. You could let him trot all day and never get wore out. Sure he did have his quirks, but all horses do.
One evening mid-March, I got a text from my sister that they had lost Okie. Stopped me in my tracks. My reply, “What? Why?” I was shocked. When I learned of the details, I was heart broke. Okie was such a kind, gentle soul. It was good to know he didn’t suffer long, and I hope he’s found his way to greener pastures where he can run – and that sucker could flat run – and be free once again. It was a good ride Okie, we will miss you!
My sister’s son, Klayton and Okie in September 2012.