Well we finally made it back from our little ‘vacation’.
We have untied the frayed rope from the back bumper and are back safe and sound. Thank all that is holy.
The thing that I am learning about vacations when you have children is that they aren’t really vacations. In fact, they are often worse than being at work. They should be called Mandatory Family Retreats and we should be paid for them if everyone makes it home alive.
It was just a trip to my parents’ place. It’s not like I tried to take my kids diving with sharks.
I do think that would have been more pleasant, though.
The trip started off ok. Squishy Bug and Panda Bear slept the first 4 or 5 hours of the drive, at which point we met my parents half way.
Then it got really hot. And then Squishy Bug woke up. And Panda woke up. Chaos ensued. There was screaming, crying and gnashing of teeth.
But we finished the drive without any major disaster, just sweaty and a little tired.
Hooray! Now SB could run and play outside! But wait, what’s that? Rain. Awesome.
So now my kid is cooped up for almost three days while it storms on 10 perfectly green acres of land with every animal a kid could wish to play with. All was not lost, though, because the sun peaked out most mornings and he was able to play enough to get a sunburn.
I was settling into some couch time while my parents watched the kids when I realized I had a sore throat. I also have a strange injury that won’t heal. So I am feeling terrible. That’s awesome.
Then my Dad becomes curious about why we were so hot on the last leg of that drive and he checks out my AC.
Diagnosis? It’s broken.
So we take it to shop. Where it spends 4 days baffling every mechanic there.
Meanwhile, I am trying to get online to work but guess what? It’s down and ATT hates my parents so they don’t do a darn thing about it the entire week.
So I am sick and trapped in the stormy woods with no internet, my parents, an infant and a grumpy toddler.
Finally my car was fixed so we could go home. Of course the sun came out then.
But determined not to be defeated by Acts of God, I rush SB outside to get in a last few hours of play.
My father warns, though, to watch out for fire ants. Pfft! I was raised in the country, I know how to stay out of fire ant beds.
Then Squishy Bug interrupts my reverie to scream in pain.
He is covered in fire ants. I wash him off in the baby pool and that really pisses them off. Now my child is covered in tiny red welps all over his body.
Mother of the Year, people, Mother of the Freaking Year.
My mother saves the day with a trip to the pharmacy, and after a bath, Benadryl, and plenty of Cortizone, he is comfortable again.
Then we pack it all up and drive the 7,000 miles back home to ATX.
So glad to be home. Sleep? oh no, those kids slept all the way back, so they are all charged up and will be awake until Monday. So I guess I will have to wait until next week to get any sleep as well.