Let the morning purple production begin in earnest!
Fiona ate double her weight of this stuff (blueberry, black beans, brown, rice, coconut, peanut butter, banana) in her first year and now Sam's getting in the swing of things.
But now Fiona's so big she's breast feeding elephants.
"No Sam, that's Mary's blanket to keep her warm while she breast feeds."
GREETINGS FROM QUARANTINE!
Fiona spent ALL of yesterday puking so much I thought we were headed for IV fluids.
It was kinda fun at the beginning: extra juice, as much Daniel Tiger as Sam's seen in his life, only slightly low energy, and lots of cuddles (and obsessive hand washing...).
Sam was feeling pretty good despite some mild pink eye, and worked on some new crawling techniques.
Then we down-graded to PJs and set up camp with a puke bucket on the couch.
In the afternoon (5th outfit...) she FINALLY fell asleep and didn't even wake up (or let go of elephant or water) when she fell off the couch.
Last night wasn't too shabby for sleep and, after assessing our health status
we even ventured out in the sun this morning.
I was reminded of climbers smearing their poop on sun-exposed rock walls as I hoped the rays would zap our virus-coated bodies.
I think she looks like a little Soviet lady in the park here.
Touch of spacey dementia in those dehydrated eyes...
You have boogers.
No YOU have boogers.
Fiona decided it was all of our birthdays and wanted to make a brown cake with purple frosting.
All of our hands are chapped and cracking from washing but this is, nonetheless, a small pox cake.
And it was delicious.
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