This is a “guest post” written by my daughter.

As background, our first grandchild is almost six months old and he is now on the move! Since birth, he has thrown back some of every feed, just like his mother, his auntie and apparently, his NanR!

I had a message the other day, “I now have a mobile spewing machine!!!”

Then she posted this ….
You know those mornings when the only option is to cry or write a poem…

Version 2

He spewed with the sparrows
In the bed, on the floor
He spewed while she weed
And then twenty times more

He spewed while she cleaned,
Spewing and smearing
Then looked in her eyes
Somehow endearing

He spewed while she changed him,
Once then again,
He spews with a dummy,
Still comes out all the same

But there she thought
“How lucky am I?
To have this little boy”,
With a tear in her eye

How he laughs and smiles,
Cuddles in for a pat,
And watched as he…
Shat on her thrice cleaned yoga mat!


She’d placed him on his play mat, facing the opposite direction. Oh the memories, I’ve been there, done that, worn that t shirt. But I don’t remember writing a poem about it. Love my kids!! xxx