the Casper hospital

[flea]

Casper read, at school, and then multiple times at home, the Curious George book in which George goes to the hospital for an operation because he swallowed a puzzle piece. Now we're doing operations on everybody, especially a small stuffed cow who can't seem to understand that puzzle pieces aren't candy. We take blood pressure, and give medicine, and everything. This is our hospital: http://www.flickr.com/photos/casperflea/410073248/ (note: two-person tents seem much smaller when you are sleeping in them than when they are in your study.)

The other weekend excitement was the saga of the dress. My mother made it. It's lovely. I finally (after more than 2 months) convinced Casper to try it on. Casper HATES it. Here is how it played out: http://www.flickr.com/photos/casperflea/410073237/ (She said, indignantly, "Princesses don't have pockets!" which I had to email to Ms. Dressaday.)

We also went to the Museum, and Dillo helped build some dinosaurs: http://www.flickr.com/photos/casperflea/410082543/

He is unusually fussy today, and eating like crazy (bottles at 2 and 4, nursed at 5, sweet potatoes, pears, rice cereal, cheerios, and graham cracker since 5:30). Still has a cold. Maybe I should just post when he doesn't have a cold. It was a worse-than-usual night; we're rather wiped out, and it's only Monday.

Comments

[calligrafiti.livejournal.com]

I love how Casper latched on to the medical stuff and is working through it. And the guys building the dinosaur is too cute for words. I don't really have an opinion on kids clothes, but I do have a family dress story. My cousin, then 3 or 4, was a flowergirl at my parents' wedding. Grandma, an excellent seamstress, made her a lovely dress for the occasion. My cousin hated it so much that they weren't able to get a single picture of her at the ceremony or reception where she wasn't scowling. Seriously--a 4 year old with a face full of cake, still scowling.

[zmayhem.livejournal.com]

The Casper pictures are melting me, angry face and all.

But oh, poor Dillo, and poor all of you. He's been bouncing from one bug to the next almost without a break for what, a month now? (Which, translated into sleep-dep parent time, is approximately thirty years.) I feel your bleary pain -- Matilda is cold-ridden and growth-spurting this week, and there's been hideously little sleep and nursing, nursing, nursing. It drains you down to a withered, sandy-eyed husk so miserably fast.