Tuesday, November 13, 2007

My baby

Poor Brad. He had no idea why I was fattening him up at dinner tonight. "Do you want more pasta, sweetie? Okay, here you go....How about an oatmeal square? Would you like one? And some crackers--you like crackers? No, you want cheerios? Okay, here's a bowl. And cheese, would you like a cheese stick? Do you want another oatmeal square?"

He's too young to realize that something is seriously wrong when Mommy is offering all of his favorite foods at once. (Mayday! Mayday! Not the natural order of things!)

He can't eat anything else before the MRI tomorrow--he can have apple juice until 8am, but that's it. This is the kid who wakes up asking for food. And the worst part is that I have to feed Anne in front of him. I can just see the waterworks and tantrums tomorrow morning when Anne gets a nice big bowl of oatmeal and a bottle and Brad gets...apple juice. Until I take it away from him. Poor kid.

I had some pics to post, but Blogger is giving me error messages, so I'll try again tomorrow.

1 comment:

Lyndsey said...

Lets get a move on the pictures. You may think you have better things to do like MRIs and new jobs and trips to the big bad north but some of us are going to need some serious cheering up tomorrow morning so pictures would help. Thank you very much.