Some pictures:
The bad version (and sadly - the longer, more detailed version):
We left Wednesday morning with a car so full you could hardly see out the rear window. I got to listen to my husband complain incessantly about the number of shoes that were packed, among other things. "We can do laundry while we're there, you know." Which really means "My mom can do our laundry while we're there, you know."
Ugh.
It took a while for the kids to get settled and stop asking "Where are we?" (to which you'd better have an answer... and if there isn't one, and you're somewhere between Waco and whatever comes after Waco, you make one up) and "What's for lunch/dinner/breakfast?"
Our second day of driving we were making pretty good time. Until we got to Rock Springs. At which point we entered the setup to a scene from some horrifying winter flick, I was sure. We lost count of the number of overturned semis we saw off the side of the road. We began counting water bottles and I located all the blankets and coats should we have been left there to die. And wodnered which of my children would be willing to breastfeed, if necessary. Alas, we pulled off the freeway and decided to stay the night in a hotel. There were just a few hours of driving to complete in the morning.
And we did. So we arrived 15 hours later than planned, but in better spirits.
That night my sister-in-law brought her youngest over to welcome us. I hadn't seen my niece since her blessing, and we all know how much a child can change in a year. I was thrilled to see her in all her sweet toddlerness!
The following day my SIL called and told us her oldest child had been throwing up all night long. Oh no, I thought... the kids were so excited to play with her! And playing was going to be a staple in our vacation. But they were just going to have to wait a couple days. Bummer!
Well, a couple days turned into all week as my SIL contracted the bug in the process. It was then that she linked it back to her youngest, who'd thrown up on Christmas night. And had been in contact with our children the night we arrived.
Fast forward to New Year's Day when Drew threw up. Joy to the world! And leaked diarrhea everywhere. Hark the Herald Angels Sing! Needless to say, he spent the rest of his vacation under a blanket, in the basement, in front of the tv, with a bucket beside him, while dh and I traded hours staring at him.
As we watched the weather forecast throughout the week, it became increasingly obvious that we'd need to leave a day earlier than we'd originally planned. There was another storm blowing in and we wanted nothing to do with it! So Wednesday night, after Drew seemed to be feeling better, we made a whirlwind trip out to see some of my family and hurried back to exchange gifts with my husband's brother and fiancee, who'd just gotten back into town. My SIL's family was finally feeling better too, so they came over as well and we snapped pictures of the kids and tried to make up for lost time.
We stayed up late packing so we could leave first thing in the morning. At which point Drew throws up again. And then snow began to fall. And fall. Several hours before expected. And we realized we'd be extending the trip rather than shortening it.
That night on our date, before we even had a chance to order dessert, we got a call from Mom saying that Jonah had thrown up. All is calm, all is bright! We rushed home to find him sacked out in the basement lying exactly as Drew had just nights before.
The next day we had to leave. It was the weekend and my husband had no more vacation days left (plus, we had overstayed our welcome). We had exactly the number of days we needed to get home. We were mostly packed, so getting ready to leave the next morning was a breeze. Thank goodness.
Jonah made it through the night only throwing up once, but we got to wake up to the sound of Sasha heaving in her pack-n-play. Glo-oooo-o-oooo-o-oooo-oria! Still we piled into the car. And as if it wasn't full enough when we arrived, we had to cram in buckets, rags, and paper towels for the much anticipated vomit fest.
An hour into the trip Jonah already needed a change of clothes. Another hour goes by, I wanted to change clothes (thanks to Sasha, bless her heart), but dh encouraged me to "use a wet wipe". And so the day goes, stopping again and again. Our grand total of driving mileage that first day? 300.
Everyone was grateful for a place to lie down for the night and we splurged on a nice hotel. I think we deserved it. Throughout the night I fed Sasha in small increments... 2 minutes every half hour is about all she could tolerate. And when she didn't want anything, I hand expressed into a cup. And watched for signs of dehydration. And learned that I hand express pretty well, but that bruised feeling boobs the following day is not so pleasant. Some good that big fluffy, comfortable, expensive bed did me, lol!
Day two, we continued on in our routine of puking, stopping, changing, deoderizing the car and anti-bacterializing our hands. The only highlight of which was that Jonah actually made it into the bucket! Woot! And my husband actually let me change clothes as poor Sasha did not (make it in the bucket). I had to fight for it, though. The clean clothing. The conversation went something like this: "Honey, pull over, I need to change." "Can't you just wipe it off?" "No, I've had these clothes on since yesterday afternoon anyway. They're dirty." "What about yesterday's clothes? They should be dry by now." "Um, they were still puked on. I just want clean clothes, please." "Well, if I can reach one of my shirts here, how about you just wear that over what you have on." "NO, I JUST WANT CLEAN CLOTHES, PLEASE!" What's a girl gotta do to not turn heads, er noses, at every rest stop in America? Sheesh!
At this point we were just over halfway home. My husband called in for a comp day and we chilled in another nice, comfy hotel room for the night.
Things finally began looking up. Sure, my son hadn't eaten a thing in over 2 days and was looking pretty gaunt. I was terribly engorged. But nobody had thrown up in 12 hours or so, so I considered that a positive sign.
We plummeted through New Mexico, Oklahoma and Texas and rolled into our driveway around 8:30pm at night. We'd made up for almost half of our trip that day, which was a considerable improvement in driving time!
So yes, there were some highs and many lows to our winter vacation. But when we got home, we realized that half of us had stayed healthy and we'd made it home safely, sans ice and snow. It would really have helped if I'd remembered these small positive things on the road. I lost my cool more times than I care to admit. But hindsight is often the keenest. And I am grateful to at least have that!
Really wasn't that taken just yesterday?
