I don’t know why my blogs are so disgusting lately. I guess it is just my life with all these little alien creatures expelling bodily fluids here and there and everywhere.
The other morning I was out the door before 7am to get my blood drawn. I have had a well woman lab panel to get done for a routine physical for about one year but I could never seem to find time to do it. First of all, it was difficult to wrap my mind around actually leaving the house without having coffee, which was necessary since this was a fasting blood draw. Secondly, 7am is a busy time in the Woolsey household; difficult to escape the trenches. By the time I got home at 7:45am, one of the crew had fallen ill.
Chris and Elsa were on the couch, Elsa looking particularly sad and pathetic. About half an hour later Elsa barfed all over Chris and then we knew what was wrong with her: the stomach flu. Chris, being the good daddy he is, took getting barfed on in stride and carried Elsa to the shower. The only thing that stood between them was a layer of barf. It was so sweet. They took a nice long shower and got all cleaned up and dressed and smelling nice and then Elsa barfed all over Chris again. He started the cleanup process all over again.
Elsa is generally a good sick person because all she does is sleep most of the day and all night when she is sick. But, when she is awake she had to be held by me the entire time and I was not allowed to sit down while holding her.
By night time Chris was holding Elsa again, and again, she barfed all over him twice. I found it fascinating that I had Elsa the entire day and she did not barf on me once, but when Chris started to hold her she barfed again . . . twice. The event that really made me laugh for a very long time, though, was right before we went to bed Preston was playing and running around and Chris was lying on the ground. Preston walked up to Chris and had a spitup all over Chris’s shirt. Preston doesn’t even spitup very much anymore and I found it overly amusing that he chose that night on that person to fall back on old habits. I escaped the entire day without any bodily fluid landing on me. A successful day indeed!
The Road Trip
Saturday night we packed up the house and the car and got ready for our Thanksgiving trip down to Thousand Oaks with the domestics. Chris and I are actually a good team because I pack everyone’s clothes and accessories, which takes me about four hours, while Chris meticulously loads every square inch of our minivan.
Today didn’t go exactly as planned, but nothing ever really does in our lives. Nevertheless, Chris and I woke up early in the morning and we were pumped. We were ready for our getaway and a nice change of scenery. We poured our coffee and sipped on it as we put the finishing touches on our packing job. Ava gets up and deposits herself in her carseat in the minivan; she is ready to go by 7am. I go upstairs to get Elsa and I immediately smell an unnatural stench in her room. I go to change her diaper and I realize that this is a blowout that not even an entire package of Pampers wipes could resolve. I strip her naked and carry her under her arms and as far away from my body as possible all the way to the shower. Then I go to get Preston, and again with the unnatural stench. He doesn’t require a shower, but he does require about 30 wipes and new pajamas.
The trip started out okay with hardly a complaint; we had a Baby Einstein marathon going on the DVD player and a plethora of snack items to fill their little tummies. Things really began to go South when Preston threw up the first time. We had to do a pull over stop off the freeway and take Preston’s shirt off and clean up the puke that blanketed the straps of the carseat.
It was about this time that a fly entered our car and wouldn’t leave for the next few days. Chris named him Chauncy. No matter how many times I batted Chauncy with my magazine and rolled down my window in hopes that he would fly out, Chauncy had grown attached to us and just would not leave. I must admit that we grew to love Chauncy a little also. This leads me to the Haiku that Chris made up as we were about 1/2 an hour from our destination:
slowly going mad
four munchkins threatening chaos
crossing the grapevine
This Haiku kind of explains why Chris named a fly.
We had almost made it to the domestics house when Preston puked an adult sized puke all over himself and his car seat again. The poor kid was throwing up so much he could hardly breathe. So, precisely one minute before landing at the house Chris called his parents and told them of the unfortunate accident and when we pulled up we saw them coming toward us with a bucket of water and cloths. At that point I felt badly that the domestics couldn’t have some better houseguests that week than us.
Fast forward a half an hour later and we were basking in the Southern California sunshine in the backyard of the domestics home. We had stripped Preston down to his birthday suit and he was frolicking around the yard. We were joyous and happy because we had arrived safely and Preston seemed to be feeling better. I turn around to check on naked little Preston and notice he was walking a little funny. Right then he had an explosion diahrrea all over the domestics prestine patio. Nobody knew what to do with it right off the bat except for the dog Katie. I won’t go there. Dick said “who thought it was a good idea to leave Preston without a diaper on?” Ummmm, that would be the mothership. Lesson learned: DO NOT LEAVE A KID WITH THE STOMACH FLU TO RUN AROUND WITHOUT A DIAPER ON. We are truly nightmare houseguests. But here I must insert our motto for 2009: “it could’ve been worse.” Preston could’ve pooped on the carpet instead.
Until next time, the mothership is signing off.