This was how Roan summed up the situation on Monday night as we made our way back home from our long weekend in San Francisco. It was 9:30 at night and we had been on all manner of trains, planes and automobiles since 2:30 west coast time. She had exhibited patience and grace throughout. Though she remained awake through the entire 3 hour plane ride home, she had played quietly in her chair without complaint.
We finally made it back home to Denver and we were just a short 30 minute ride from the house. I was looking forward to getting us all into bed and having a full night of sleep. All of a sudden, out of nowhere she goes Exorcist on us. Full on pea green vertical shot of vomit all over herself. Luckily the bucket shape of the car seat contained most of the damage. Naturally she started to whimper, and then to cry. And then she exploded again. Then once more. And again. Four times right in a row, full force and with astonishing volume. Unfortunately the child is an overachiever even at vomiting.
Arwen asked me if he should pull over to clean her up in a gas station bathroom. For a half a second I tried to imagine 1. Getting her out of the car seat without spreading the goods all over the car and 2. Trying to tackle all that puke armed with nothing more than an entire package of handi wipes. "No honey," I told him. "I'm gonna need a garden hose for this. Just drive!"
I gotta say, Roan stayed pretty calm throughout the whole ordeal. We managed to distract her with a little singing in the car. She just kept saying "Uh-oh Mama" over and over again. And a couple of times she said things along the lines of "shirt sticky." Uh yeah I guess so! I was thinking. You're covered in chunks!
It was a late night at the Vaughan household. We had to get her out of the car, seat and all, strip all her clothes off in the cold (oh we are so mean!) and give her a bath before we could put her to bed. And then there was the car seat to contend with. Which to be perfectly honest I put off until the next day. Disgusting. She totaled the thing. Hosing off the padded cover was only the beginning. As I was stripping the damn thing down to foam, rubber and plastic my mind kept wandering to Dante's Inferno and his eight circles of hell. I am sure there is a ninth circle for terrible parents that invloves cleaning car seats. Let me tell you that thing has more nooks and crannies that the world's fattest man. And I found a raisin in every one. No lie my friends. I may have to form a support group to deal with the resulting post traumatic stress.
I don't know what prompted the vomiting, but I'm glad to say she woke up the next day appearing healthy. Until this little incident occurred, the title for this blog post was supposed to be: "I need three." This simple little sentence sums up so elegantly our little dumpling's personality, and I'll tell you why. On the plane ride home we happened to sit ourselves down on the airplane across from the overhead luggage compartment where they stow all the pillows and blankets. She looked up, pointed and declared, "I need pillows!" Arwen volunteered to grab her one. "I'm gonna get her two," he said. Daddy loves to spoil his little girl. "Honey she only needs one," I replied. What a stick in the mud Mom is. He hands her the pillows and says "Daddy got you two pillows, Roan." She doesn't miss a beat. She grabs them both and exclaims "I need three!" I guess she knows what she wants and isn't afraid to ask for it.
So it's creeping up on 1 AM and tomorrow I'm planning on doing all the things I normally do on my days off with Roan in addition to cleaning my house and cooking a turkey and about 13 other side dishes. And I don't really know how to cook a turkey. So maybe I should get to sleep rather than post the pictures I just downloaded from my camera. Those will come soon, as well as a recap of our visit to SF!
One more thing - a quick shout out to my Mom and my Grandma Carolyn, who both had birthdays this week. I love you both!