Boy Vs. Drink

Today was one of those days where I would have liked to trade places with any number of you.

Kean woke up not wanting to drink or eat much of anything.

Which translated into one very stressed out mom.

How do you explain to the little guy if he doesn't drink at least 25 to 30 ounces

he gets to go to the hospital and have a feeding tube pushed down his nose.

Ug.

I tried pleading, bribing, tricking, and yes, I'm embarrassed to admit, I even yelled at him a bit.

Double ug.

I think I'm losing it slowly.

Finally, by my noon deadline, I called the hospital to report I had gotten him to drink 10 ounces (which mind you, was no easy task).

I told them I was confident I could get the rest down him.

And once again, they believed me.

So after naps we got to work.

Thank heavens, I have my secret weapon:  Greer - who never tires of trying to get him to drink:

I just put him to bed and boy, we somehow made it.

26 ounces.  Yup... 26.

Dodged the hospital for another day.

Tomorrow we start from scratch-- again.