The Trip Home - Part 2

Part 2 - Our Return, or how bodily functions keep me from reaching my destination.

On Sunday morning, after the dog bite incident, after I had been up for 7 hours, had eaten breakfast twice, and had woekn everyone I could think of up before 9am... we finally left. Emily and her friend Chris? Kris? Helped us to the car, which was great because even then we had trouble making it across the street and to the garage.

After driving around town for 20 minutes in the right general direction but never actually getting to the highway because of the stupid street fairs, I finally m ade it to the highway. I kept expecting to relax and settle into the groove of the drive, but instead my head just kept pounding and pounding and pounding. I was VERY upset about Cleo, and about how my husband would react when he saw his son's face (I needen't have worried, but once I start stressing I just keep going.)

I pulled over at McDonalds to get a coffee, thinking that would help me out, but it didn't. My head kept hurting. And then I realized I also had to pee.

Stupidly, I did one of those "I can make it to the next exit" things. Which is great when you are alone, or with other adults, and can then hop out of the car and rush into the rest room. But when you have two small children in car seats STOP EARLY! By the time I could stop again I was almost in tears with fear that I wouldn't actually make it into the rest room. I then had to unstrap Nick, walk him around to the other side of the car, unstrap Nate, walk them across the street with the heavy diaper bag, stand in line, wedge ourselves into a small stall meant for one very skinny person with no diaper bag, and manage to undress myself, go, and redress myself all while holding Nathan and trying to convince Nick NOT to open the door thank you very much.

After changing diapers I stopped by the vending machines, hoping against all hope that one of them would sell Advil or Tylonol, but all they had was soda or candy. I feed wrinkled dollar bills into the machines to get a diet coke and some m&m's for Nick (the candy, not the soda) and the man in charge of the rest stop came over and started chatting, asking about my kids and telling me about his nephews, which was great but I have to say I was NOT in the mood to be friendly. Once in the car I rummaged through my luggare and used the Afrin nose spray I had for the trip OUT, hoping that somehow it would do something for my head ache and we could get HOME.

Then Nate started screaming. He screamed and screamed and screamed. I pulled over to get gas and feed him, and he screamed. He kept screaming and kept screaming and suddenly I had to use the bathroom again (so soon? Yes. I don't get it either) VERY BADLY. But I was determined not to pull over again. I wanted to get home. I didn't want to have to get everyone out and then get everyone back in - each stop added an hour to our drive.

And then it becase exceedingly obvious that Nicholas needed a diaper change, in more than just a superficial way. I had to open the windows until we made it to the next place where I could pull over.

Once I stopped the car I spread a blanket down on the floor. I ended up having to change Nick's entire outfit. I fed Nate the rest of his bottle (which didn't make a difference, as he began screaming the second he finished and was still in the awful car seat.) And I took care of my own needs but you don't need to know any more about that.

For someone who had a good vacation, I have never been so happy to get home in my LIFE.

The end.