God Forsakes!

Typical scheduling in my world does not involve forethought and this week was no different. We set out for a day trip to Santa Barbara with Gigi and the girls. Our road trip began at 8:30 a.m. and we whirled around the Santa Barbara Zoo, Paseo Nuevo Shopping and the Santa Ynez Wine Country to arrive home just before 8. It goes without saying that the girls (now 4 yrs. and 1 yr.) were ready for a long hiatus from their carseats.
The following day, however, was not the day for a break(Major Lack of Forethought on My Part). Gigi had arrived without a car and needed a lift over to her vacation home in Lake Nacimiento to meet guests...a mere hour and 15 minute drive through the winding back country of North County. We arrived to her cabin at 1 p.m. and spent the afternoon riding tricycles on the deck, doing glitter art, eating and hiking around the park. When we finally packed up for the drive back home, without Gigi, I knew I would need the strength of three moms to get us home without the wheels falling off.
We made it exactly 32 minutes before Ana spit up. Or, at least it started out as spit up. The follow-up gag arrived in the form of curdled cheese, milk and strawberries projected all over the back seat and floor.
I spent the next half an hour on the side of the road, coaching myself (out loud) to pull myself together and just scrape it off her seat with my bare hands (I've handled worse, I think....Haven't I?) When the majority of Ana's last meals had been extracted from our car, leaving only the sour smell of vomit to enjoy, I filled the carcass of her carseat with my jeans and a sweater for padding. Then strapping her in, I announced it was now 6:30, we were out of water (used up for rinsing), towels, extra clothes, diapers and food and we had a mere 45 minutes of hellish winding roads before we were home. Yippee. The first 25 minutes were tense as I kept one eye on the road and the other on my green toddler.
Then I heard Shelby say, "God forsakes, Ana! You puked all over yourself AGAIN!!!"
I didn't even pull over this time, I just turned both eyes to the road and headed for home.
If you're in my neighborhood, our house is the one with two plastic, coverless carseats in the driveway and all the doors open on my car. I can't bring myself to scour it anymore today, but the smell remains.
We have a lot of laundry to do.


A Visit From Gigi

I've been away from my computer for awhile. My excuse has to do with my mother. My mom descended upon us for a week. For many, including husbands, the mere thought of their mom (or M-I-L) living with them for 7 nights would drive them to the brink. In my case, her visit is a welcomed gift!
My mom, deemed "Gigi", reads my oldest every children's book until their eyes are both crossed (she even read her adult novel aloud while Shelby painted) and diced every food known to man for my youngest little gobbler. I enjoy her company and she doesn't make my husband the least bit crazy. To top it off, her timely October vacation at our house comes on the heels of a long summer and an even longer harvest (which means John hasn't been around for evenings or weekends since late May). In a nutshell: I had a girlfriend to join me for a pedicure, a sidekick to grab a beer and lunch midday, a second set of arms to hug a tired toddler or change a dirty diaper, and she laundered, folded and put away every last tidbit of laundry in my house. Hallelujah! Our week is over and I am once again, home, alone, with my two girls. I hope Gigi comes back again soon.