Finally Beginning to Understand My Folks

Well, after safely arriving in California, I began to understanding why the Godfather and the Quiltaholic (my mom and dad) didn't take us on many family vacations as we were growing up...

TO start with - the stress and hassle of attempting to launder and separate out the items Captain Chaos needed for clothing during the trip, while keeping him clothed before the trip was insane! Of course, it didn't help that somewhere along the line of the last 10 days, the poor boy has decided to cut his 2 year molars...so we're dealing with all the fun of runny nose, runny bum, fever, diaper rash, PLUS the normal issues of "3-way snug fit to accommodate your little one's every movement" not working, and having overflow on the diapers anyway...all I can say is thank goodness for a long summer in our neck of the woods, and warm temperatures...that way he can sleep in just his shirt and diaper...no clean shorts or pants needed after naps which helps cut back on laundry...

Secondly, we had the added stress of taking a puppy to the local Humane Society...we, in our insanity, adopted an adorable puppy at the end of July, and had to make the tough decision not to keep her. After 2 months of NO progress whatsoever with this little ball of fur that quickly grew into a lanky, leggy, dog that chewed on everything (and I do mean everything), peed on everything, with no attempt at even trying to let me know she had to go...I decided that in order not to commit cruelty to animals, and not to shoot BB, the dog had to go. Now, don't worry, we still have the already established king of the house, Rocco (name NOT changed to protect the innocent). So, in the midst of cleaning the house, cleaning Captain Chaos, and packing up BB's things for the trip, we took a "quick" trip to the Humane Society. There, we were subjected to disapproving glares, barbed comments, endless questions, accusations, and finally a request for a donation. Needless to say, my giving was NOT done with a joyful heart that morning.

Once all the cleaning and packing was done, and my utility room disinfected, and finally cleared of the odor of dog pee, we settled for our day of doing nothing, which was glorious. HOWEVER! Tuesday night, Captain Chaos decided not to sleep!!!! He woke up 4 times in the night, threw up inside and outside of the crib, and generally had a terrible night. This NEVER happens at our house, unless he is really sick. SO, at 3:30 I finally gave up, got up, got ready to leave our house at 5:30, and at 4:15 had the 2nd load of sheets and towels in the wash, had everything in the diaper bag ready to go, and by the front door. I sat down with a cup of tea, and the Captain woke up for good this time. He had a bath to remove the final stench of his throwing up (let's face it, who bathes their child at 2am???), had breakfast, bath #2 (to remove breakfast from his hair and ears), and was playing quietly with his toys at 5 when the Godfather aka Poppa, showed up to pick us up.

We were at the airport by 6:15, checked in, through security, and had a 2nd breakfast of an Egg McMuffin, juice, and hasbrowns, and at the gate by 6:45. Now, this is not unheard of, but highly unusual, especially when I'm traveling by myself. We then waited the hour to board our flight, and were blessed enough to have an empty seat in our row! About 40 minutes before we landed, Captain Chaos just melted...I mean he was sobbing, didn't want to be held, didn't want to be down, or up, or laying, or sitting, or playing, or drinking his milk...he was just DONE...so for the duration of our flight, he cried...and then he cried while we changed his diaper after we landed, and he cried while I got our bags. And he cried in the shuttle to the hotel (BB was teaching a session when we landed). And he cried when he saw BB. And he cried while we walked around the hotel. And then finally, at lunch, he stopped crying long enough to eat. We got back to our room, laid him on the bed surrounded by pillows, shut off all the lights, and gave him more milk. He slept...for 25 mintues (which was after BB went back to teach his afternoon session). And then he cried for an hour. And then he slept...for 25 minutes. And then he cried until Curious George came on the local PBS station. And then he was happy because BB was done, and we played, and then went to see CalCustom at the new shop space (which rocks, by the way!). And then we went to dinner. And then we came back to the hotel, and wandered around looking through the eyes of a 16 month old. And at 7, we ordered Room Service to get his milk for the night, and due to their minimum order amount, ended up with ice cream, a piece of killer carrot cake, and 2 glasses of milk. At 8:30 we put Captain Chaos down to bed for the night, and he slept. For 10 glorious hours he slept...uninterrupted, unmoving in his portable crib...he slept...like a rock!!!!

All of this leads me back to my original point of this: My parents may not have had a lot of money for us to travel with, but I think they had more than they let on,a nd only told us it was too expensive because they valued their sanity, and the fairly normal routine we had.

Which leads me to question, what else did my parents say while knowing deep down that it wasn't about the money, but the sanity?!?!?!?