Sadly, the annual vacation had to come to an end. This is a letdown on multiple levels-- we are saying goodbye to family members--some for a few weeks but some for another year until we meet again. We are leaving our beloved Hilton Head--whose beaches, palm trees and live oak trees are like a balm to our overworked souls. Most of all because now we have to DRIVE HOME!!! Commence the cheek slapping home alone scream. So, rafts were deflated, sand was shaken out of nearly everything, suits were washed and hung to dry and then it all was stuffed into bags and boxes and crates and miraculously it all made it back into our respective vehicles. We stayed in the same hotel on the way home but we learned from our original follies (see post: Vacation Part 1: Getting there) and made the following changes:
1. Ryan, our resident storyteller, wove a beautiful story involving the aforementioned scary flower (again, see Vacation part I). In his story the 'scary eyes' were actually not eyes at all but were magic seeds or something. I'm pretty sure he included a fairy or a princess so they seemed to buy it and weren't quite so disturbed.
2. We put Grace, Lydia and Ben in one room and kept the wildcard Jack with us.
3. We gave each child their own 'bed'. Ben got the rolls royce of beds--the baby bjorn pack n play (side note: best pack n play ever), Grace slept on the couch, and Lydia slept on a bed made of an armchair combined with the desk chair (the chair-chair bed). This genius idea came from my parents who know a little something about squishing a lot of kids in one room. I slept many a night on the 'chair-chair bed' in my younger years.
4. I will neither confirm nor deny the involvement of a certain over the counter sedative marketed for allergies. Enough said.
So, our little meercats kept their heads down for the bulk of the evening other than when Grace fell off the couch, Miss lydia needed her chair-chair bed adjusted because the chair and separated from the other chair which negated the bedness of it and when Lydia sprang from her chair-chair bed to throw up in the toilet (yes, that's right folks, she made it to the toilet this time). Which leads to the other interesting part of the drive home.
The explosions of bodily fluid--from both ends (kids only--Ryan and I were miraculously spared). Despite the liberal use of anti-nausea meds we still had one major vomiting incident and it was definitely a story for the family archives. We had just made a stop to let the kids out of their 5 point harness prisons, feed Jack and caffeinate ourselves at none other than Starbucks (the starbucks app is a godsend on vacations). There had been no puking since the night before and all seemed well. The only hint of things to come was the fact that Grace, who has a love affair with food, apparently did not finish her entire cake pop--I was unaware of this as I was changing Jack during the cake pop party. Had I known this subtle but very telling piece of information my maternal alarm would have been tripped and the upcoming scene might have been avoided. Hindsight is 20/20 and ultimately it makes for a good story so I hold no one responsible. Two minutes after we pulled out of the Starbucks parking lot Grace put both hands up to her mouth and started screaming something. I turned around and quickly realized by her panicked face, puffed out cheeks and muffled cries of 'I'm going to throw up' that something needed to be done. I was hollering for her not to throw up and simultaneously grabbed the only bag nearby--a ziplock bag of high end snacks (thanks to Brent of sprigbox.com for the snacks) Ryan had packed for the two of us. I hurdled the center console, the cooler between the middle seats, about 100 toys that had been dropped by Benson and reached Grace just in time to hold the bag to her face. At this point I was balancing on the one leg that was able to fit amidst all of the junk and using both of my hands to create a seal around Grace's exorcist mouth, all while the van was still moving. Miraculously most of the vomit went into the bag--about 10% of it ended up on her dress and 10% of it managed to make it on my face and t-shirt and in my hair. I felt like a collective cheer from the universe should have occurred at that moment for what I had achieved. Instead I heard:
Lydia: "Mom, are you giving Grace snacks? I want some snacks!!"
Ryan: "Was that the bag with my snacks in it?" (I think he was joking but the timing just wasn't right)
Later that day Ben was crying about diapers and poop and who knows what else but he had been crying about a million other things throughout the trip so we kind of ignored him. It wasn't until we got home that we realized that he had been sitting in a pool of diarrhea that was now up his back, down his legs and all over his carseat. So our first task upon arrival in Columbus was to throw him in the tub and the carseat cover back into the wash
Once we finally made it back I vowed not to put the kids back into the minivan for at least a month and no long car trips until they are teenagers.We were low on rest but full of more vacation memories to add to the collection. We finally have everything back where it belongs.
Despite all of the hairy vacation tales, we are already looking forward to next year. Why do we do this every year? and honestly sometimes I ask myself the same thing when I am leaning over the mini van seat slightly nauseous and trying to hand out the hourly snacks to the hollering masses? Because time marches on--we will have new babies (shout out to Katie's little Ella that will be here soon) and this year's infant will be next year's crawler and this years crawler will be the next spontaneous pool hopper that we have to strap floaties to at all times, and this years pool hopper (ahem, Ben) will hopefully be next year's triumphant swimmer--or at least a little less compulsive around the water. I for one do not want to miss a minute of it--even if it might involve a little puke.
1. Ryan, our resident storyteller, wove a beautiful story involving the aforementioned scary flower (again, see Vacation part I). In his story the 'scary eyes' were actually not eyes at all but were magic seeds or something. I'm pretty sure he included a fairy or a princess so they seemed to buy it and weren't quite so disturbed.
2. We put Grace, Lydia and Ben in one room and kept the wildcard Jack with us.
3. We gave each child their own 'bed'. Ben got the rolls royce of beds--the baby bjorn pack n play (side note: best pack n play ever), Grace slept on the couch, and Lydia slept on a bed made of an armchair combined with the desk chair (the chair-chair bed). This genius idea came from my parents who know a little something about squishing a lot of kids in one room. I slept many a night on the 'chair-chair bed' in my younger years.
4. I will neither confirm nor deny the involvement of a certain over the counter sedative marketed for allergies. Enough said.
So, our little meercats kept their heads down for the bulk of the evening other than when Grace fell off the couch, Miss lydia needed her chair-chair bed adjusted because the chair and separated from the other chair which negated the bedness of it and when Lydia sprang from her chair-chair bed to throw up in the toilet (yes, that's right folks, she made it to the toilet this time). Which leads to the other interesting part of the drive home.
The explosions of bodily fluid--from both ends (kids only--Ryan and I were miraculously spared). Despite the liberal use of anti-nausea meds we still had one major vomiting incident and it was definitely a story for the family archives. We had just made a stop to let the kids out of their 5 point harness prisons, feed Jack and caffeinate ourselves at none other than Starbucks (the starbucks app is a godsend on vacations). There had been no puking since the night before and all seemed well. The only hint of things to come was the fact that Grace, who has a love affair with food, apparently did not finish her entire cake pop--I was unaware of this as I was changing Jack during the cake pop party. Had I known this subtle but very telling piece of information my maternal alarm would have been tripped and the upcoming scene might have been avoided. Hindsight is 20/20 and ultimately it makes for a good story so I hold no one responsible. Two minutes after we pulled out of the Starbucks parking lot Grace put both hands up to her mouth and started screaming something. I turned around and quickly realized by her panicked face, puffed out cheeks and muffled cries of 'I'm going to throw up' that something needed to be done. I was hollering for her not to throw up and simultaneously grabbed the only bag nearby--a ziplock bag of high end snacks (thanks to Brent of sprigbox.com for the snacks) Ryan had packed for the two of us. I hurdled the center console, the cooler between the middle seats, about 100 toys that had been dropped by Benson and reached Grace just in time to hold the bag to her face. At this point I was balancing on the one leg that was able to fit amidst all of the junk and using both of my hands to create a seal around Grace's exorcist mouth, all while the van was still moving. Miraculously most of the vomit went into the bag--about 10% of it ended up on her dress and 10% of it managed to make it on my face and t-shirt and in my hair. I felt like a collective cheer from the universe should have occurred at that moment for what I had achieved. Instead I heard:
Lydia: "Mom, are you giving Grace snacks? I want some snacks!!"
Ryan: "Was that the bag with my snacks in it?" (I think he was joking but the timing just wasn't right)
Later that day Ben was crying about diapers and poop and who knows what else but he had been crying about a million other things throughout the trip so we kind of ignored him. It wasn't until we got home that we realized that he had been sitting in a pool of diarrhea that was now up his back, down his legs and all over his carseat. So our first task upon arrival in Columbus was to throw him in the tub and the carseat cover back into the wash
Once we finally made it back I vowed not to put the kids back into the minivan for at least a month and no long car trips until they are teenagers.We were low on rest but full of more vacation memories to add to the collection. We finally have everything back where it belongs.
Despite all of the hairy vacation tales, we are already looking forward to next year. Why do we do this every year? and honestly sometimes I ask myself the same thing when I am leaning over the mini van seat slightly nauseous and trying to hand out the hourly snacks to the hollering masses? Because time marches on--we will have new babies (shout out to Katie's little Ella that will be here soon) and this year's infant will be next year's crawler and this years crawler will be the next spontaneous pool hopper that we have to strap floaties to at all times, and this years pool hopper (ahem, Ben) will hopefully be next year's triumphant swimmer--or at least a little less compulsive around the water. I for one do not want to miss a minute of it--even if it might involve a little puke.
A few of our unmissable moments
