lazing in the hammock with fellow slacking enthusiastic, Uncle P.
Though it's been a week of ups and downs, I knew Roo had pretty much crossed the threshhold of his recovery when he dropped on all fours, stuck his butt in the air and said, "Look, Mom, I'm a stunk! Smell me! Puuuuuu!" Also, the fact he paced around the living room one night chanting, "I'm fine! No butt medicine tonight! I'm fine!" was a clue, and the fact that today he's eaten half a peck of apples, three lunches and a popcorn ball leads me to believe he is now handling his throat pain well. For a parent there are certain signs.
After spending all of August imprisoned either by the hospital, Roo's rocky convalescence or my own interminable migraines, we have taken a few days to focus on doin' silly stuff and sometimes plain old nuttin'. With back to the grindstone of work coming for Mommy at the end of this week--and a return to school only 10 days away-- we have been splurging on slacking.
Among our Dog Days end-of-summer nonsense:
After spending all of August imprisoned either by the hospital, Roo's rocky convalescence or my own interminable migraines, we have taken a few days to focus on doin' silly stuff and sometimes plain old nuttin'. With back to the grindstone of work coming for Mommy at the end of this week--and a return to school only 10 days away-- we have been splurging on slacking.
Among our Dog Days end-of-summer nonsense:
lil' puttin'
swingin'
handling contraband!
readin'
talkin' to Santa (Xmas is only 9 paychecks away!)
spendin' time in the green woodsy
spendin' time with critters
surfin'
nappin'
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