Posted by: erinmelissa | April 1, 2009

Mitsuki Weekend

We’re taking Misuki overnight this weekend.  This is only the second time we’ve done this, and I’m really hoping the second is better than the first.  Not that he wasn’t completely sweet and well behaved the first time…the result of  that weekend was not his fault, but his teeth’s fault. 

Friday night he came over, and picked at his dinner (I think it was chicken nuggets and cheese).  Then, before bed, he threw up.  Niiiice.  One year old throw up.  This was followed by a lot of tears, some consoling hugs and Veggietales, and frantic calls to Tima and Chie.  Turns out he was getting his molars, and this was normal.  So, Saturday he does okay, I think he threw up once.  We tried to take him to the pool, and since he wasn’t 100%, this really freaked him out.  I didn’t know someone so little could scale and adult to get away from the water, but he did.  We quickly gave up that idea. 

I was so excited to have my adorable nephew that we’d scheduled to go over to Mike and Julann’s for a show off session.  I’d told him on the way that we’d be watching baseball and having corn.  “Corn?  Corn?” He said that the whole way to their house, very excited at the prospect.  When we got there, I gave him the tiniest of baby carrots to munch on.  About 15 minutes later, he wandered into the bedroom and droolled carrot juice on the carpet.  He’d just been holding it in his mouth, letting it stew.  We got that cleaned up and watched baseball while corn and burgers were being cooked, and he threw up all over the couch.  Then the floor.  Then he screamed.  We tried to console him, contemplated leaving, while he said so pitifully, “Corn?”  So we gave him a few kernels and set him on a towel.  Soon he started asking for bed, so we packed up and took him home.  I put him down that night and he did fine until morning.  He woke up crying, and I gave him his bottle in the pack and play as instructed, and headed back to bed.  Then we heard the screaming.  Sure enough, he’d lost his whole bottle.  I said to Tim, “We can’t go to church,” which resulted in whimpers of  “Church?  Church?”  He continued to alternate throwing up and asking for food and church all morning.  It was so sad, because try as I might, I couldn’t get him to understand that food would make him sick.  Larry Boy and the Bad Apple and a lot of hugs are what got us through that morning. 

Now that he’s three, I think all his molars are in, and this time should be a success.  Hopefully.  Anyone want to have us over?


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