Life has been busy, as evidenced by my week and a half blog break,
so I'm pretty backed up on posts I'd like to share,
but this story must be recorded before I forget the horror of it all.
It was one of those times where you would laugh at the craziness of parenthood
if you weren't so exhausted, sick, stressed, and about to cry.
Let me begin with the sad news we received last Thursday
of the passing of my paternal grandfather.
Grandpa Fulk. Hurshel.
I got the phone call Thursday morning as I was packing up
my family of 5 for a 9 day trip to New Mexico
where we would spend Christmas with Jeff's family.
He died suddenly and unexpectedly but at the same time,
he was 87, and in a lot of pain. It was time for him to go home to Jesus.
With everyone out of town for Christmas and not expecting a death,
his funeral was scheduled for the following Thursday.
So the next day my family and I loaded up
and started the 16 hour journey to Albuquerque...at 6pm mind you.
Thankfully my husband agreed to splitting it over the course of 2 days.
My mother in law was kind enough to purchase my plane ticket
with her frequent flyer miles so Jia and I could attend the funeral.
We only had to buy one ticket since Jia is under 2...
then we realized we had no documentation for her.
We thought we had to have her birth certificate to prove she was mine.
Nope, we just needed a document with her birthday to prove she was under 2.
Don't worry! The airlines aren't looking out for our children!
They're looking out for themselves. Shocking, I know.
We tried everything we could think of
and came up with NOTHING with this little girl's birth date.
So we decided to wing it at the airline check in.
And I was prepared to use fake tears if it came to that.
It did not, but it was close.
They asked for documentation, we explained our situation,
and after several minutes, that aged me significantly I'm sure,
they begrudgingly gave me a boarding pass for her.
Next hurdle (and panic attack), security.
We made it through no problem.
I seriously felt like I was smuggling something illegal onto the plane
instead of my infant daughter. Who is CLEARLY not 2.
Anyway, all crises were avoided.
Jia was amazing on the first flight.
She talked, flirted, played, and fought her nap.
Then fell asleep in my arms. Upon landing of course. ;)
I grabbed some dinner between our connecting flights
and as I was literally taking my 3rd bite
I glance down at Jia sitting in her stroller and she is gagging.
And puking. All. Over. Herself.
Are you freaking kidding me!?!?
Half the household we had just left was sick
but I thought Jia and I had managed to escape the bug.
Not so much. It was just waiting to reveal itself at the most amazing time possible.
So. I practically RUN to the bathroom.
Have I mentioned its the day after Christmas?
And one of the busiest days of the year to fly?
Yeah, throw that in there too.
I don't even want to know what people were thinking
as I rushed past them with my daughter covered in puke.
I stripped her down and tried to clean her up as much as possible.
Thanking Jesus that I had assumed she would have a blowout
and stuck an extra outfit in my bag - something I really never do.
Then tried to clean up the pool of vomit in the stroller
with public bathroom paper towels and a sick baby in my arms.
I made it back to my gate just before boarding
and was begging God to please let her be done.
She puked a couple more times waiting in line, which I caught in a plastic sack,
and a couple more times once we were in our seat...
which I caught with her blanket. Awesome.
Then the poor sweet thing couldn't even hold up her little head anymore
and passed out in my arms. And slept the rest of the flight.
Great for her. Not so great for this paranoid mama
waiting for her to wake any moment puking
and wondering what the hell she was going to do if she did.
SO. Are ya still with me??
I get off the plane, get to baggage claim, grab our luggage,
carseat, stroller, purse and baby and make it out to the frozen parking lot,
in search of the car that had been left there for me.
I drive to Hiawatha, KS trying desperately not to fall asleep on the dark country roads
as the full weight of my day begins to hit me,
dreaming of a bath for my daughter and hot shower for myself.
I get to town, unload all of said items at the hotel...
only to find out that I WAS AT THE WRONG HOTEL.
I promise I'm not making this up.
So I drive further down the road to a tiny motel.
Get to the room I'm sharing with my sister and almost lose it for real this time.
There nothing but a bedroom lock on the door, no peephole, no bathtub,
AND NO HOT WATER!!
At this point, I'm SURE I'm going to start puking any minute,
but all I can think about is getting my poor sick baby clean and in bed.
So we bathe her in the sink in my parents' room
then I clean up and fall into bed once again begging God to spare me
so that this horrible trip hasn't been made in vain
and so that I can attend my grandpa's funeral in the morning.
God heard my prayers.
The next thing I knew it was morning and I was puke free.
I was weak, achy and had a headache but I'll take that any day over puking.
Jia and I weren't a hundred percent but we made it through the day
and have been catching up on sleep at my parents' house
as we wait for our boys to get home.
There is no moral to this story. In case you were wondering.
Just a typical day in the life of a mom.
Thank goodness there are so many wonderful aspects of parenthood
to balance out the miserable. ;)
Next up on the joys of motherhood…
missing my 3 year old's birthday.