Next week we're heading out to the coast for our second "vacation" with the kids. Regular readers of my bi-yearly-updated blog will remember how our vacation went last year with the kids. It got me thinking about all the stories I've been filing away to write "later" on this site. Since next week will undoubtedly produce something I'll want to share with the rest of the world, I need to purge.
The title of this story comes from an adventurous trip to Austin last October for my sister's wedding. One, or both, of the kids had a raging episode of diarrhea. Frankly I don't recall if they both had it, I seem to remember that Nolan's issues were clearing up while Lilly's was getting worse. What I do remember are the diaper changes by the Grandy's in Italy, Texas. Memorable because it's just south of Dallas and it was our second diaper-poopexplosion of the trip. We were being told things by the parental gods. We just didn't care to listen.
When we arrived in Austin, things went downhill in a hurry. The first evening we were there was the night of the rehearsal dinner. It was a lovely affair. My sister, the bride, hadn't seen the kids in a long time and was thrilled to get to spend time with them. Lilly, feeling a little bit drained from her.....well......draining, just wanted to be held. My sister was more than willing to accommodate. Lilly then thanked my sister by barfing on her. All.over.the.bride. There's one most of you didn't get to experience at your rehearsal dinner! The sis took it in stride, but Lilly, Nolan and momma had to cut short their party before the food even arrived. Me? I stayed, of course! Somebody had to represent the family.
Later that night, Lilly threw up some sort of vile milk product all over her bed and pajamas. If you haven't had the pleasure of experience curdled toddler-milkvomit, then you've missed something in life. I really can't explain it to you. This occurred while my dad was visiting with me at the house we rented. Keep in mind that this is one of those familial times in life that often involves the consumption of wine, beer, and other such goodly things. So I was in the middle of indulgence when we had to go fight through milkpuke. Not fun.
The next day started with a wild hangover. Not a good start to wedding day. I should take this time to mention to anyone who will listen that Dogfish Head Brewing's 90 Minute Imperial IPA is a crushing 9.0% ABV, something you should know before drinking three of them in an hour after a rehearsal dinner. But I had no other choice but to fight through it. I had to. After all, we had to meet my out-of-town family for a nice brunch at a local Austin restaurant. Meeting your family for a hangover brunch is often a welcome relief. However, meeting them with a milkvomit-stained daughter and a son who was shitting liquid poo not 24 hours earlier makes for a more interesting challenge. Lilly was clearly not feeling well. Her mood was what you'd expect of a child who had a rough night. But both her and her brother were sucking down apple juice at brunch. Apple juice...that's good, right? I mean, it's got "apple" right there in the title. And apples are good. Right? This will hydrate their poor bodies!
More on this later.
About halfway through lunch, Lilly had a poopie that needed attention. So momma took her outside to change her diaper in the back of our car. After about 20 minutes went by, even my hungover brain began to realize something might not be right. So I braved the bright sun and walked outside. Keep in mind that at this point, the sun to me is vampire-esque. I'm not a fan. So I get to the car conveniently at the time where the diaper is going back onto our daughter. But Lilly still seemed sad or something. It was about this point that I noticed some reddish booger in my daughter's nose. The only reason I noticed it at all was because of the way she was laying down with her head back. So I went digging. Started pulling... and pulling... and started feeling like Arnold Schwarzenegger in Total Recall.
Her nose literally started expanding to the point that I thought we were going to split it open. And out popped an enormous bloody booger. Or at least what I thought was a bloody booger. Upon further review, it wasn't a booger at all. It was a raisin. All swollen up like it would be if you left a raisin in a bowl of water overnight. Immediately we started thinking about the last time the girl had raisins. Sadly, we concluded it was on the drive down from Dallas almost 24 hours earlier. Parents.Of.The.Year. Anyway, after de-shitting and de-boogering the girl, she and her brother finished brunch without incident.
Then we got home.
Something happened at the house. Something awful. Something that even 9 months later still makes me clench a little bit. Lilly "let go" of something holding her insides on the inside. The noise and subsequent smell let us know something was going on. Momma took Lilly to the back room to take care of the problem. But then I heard my darling wife call for help. My wife doesn't call for help. Seriously. This woman blew out her MCL in a swimming pool holding one of our children during their first 4th of July in 2009 and didn't tell anybody for days. So hearing her yell for me to help her was not a sign that things are going swimmingly.
So I come into the bedroom. Hungover. Into a room still reeking of milkvomit. And I see a pool of some brownish-yellow something. The word "pool" gets overused in reference to children's BM's. This was a fucking pool. Like the one you have in your backyard. If Michael Phelps were there, he could have swum laps in it faster than anyone else in the world. A pool. So we put the diaper that was already stressed beyond its operational safety factor back onto the girl and carefully carry her to the bathroom to "drain". This is when the dry heaving started. Mine, not hers. Remember....9% ABV. This was, without question, the most disgusting moment of our parenting careers.
After a half a box of wipes and some deep breathing outside, a phone call to the pediatrician revealed that pedialyte is good for this. Apple juice, which the kids were drinking like 9% ABV Imperial IPA earlier in the day, turns out to be a powerful laxative. Who knew? So now the quest in life is to locate a pharmacy in Austin open on a Sunday afternoon. That was a whole other story.
Did I mention that my sister was getting married?
So the whole purpose of this trip was to be a part of my sister's blessed nuptials. The kids had a starring role in the whole affair, they were responsible for bringing the rings up to the bride and groom. Seeing how they were not yet two when this happened, this was a moment to remember and cherish. Our hopes were slight that this was going to happen at all. Not after all the barfing and pooping and raisins over the previous 48 hours.
However, we were surprised that not three hours after Lilly's watery event, the children made a mighty comeback. They did great at their aunt's wedding. They carried rings, and danced the night away with their mom and dad. Later that night, they had a vomit-free evening and we had a nice drive back to Dallas the next morning. The first road trip weekend started fairly awful, but ended up rebounding strong. Lessons were learned, and prices were paid. Shouldn't all weekends be like that?
The title of this story comes from an adventurous trip to Austin last October for my sister's wedding. One, or both, of the kids had a raging episode of diarrhea. Frankly I don't recall if they both had it, I seem to remember that Nolan's issues were clearing up while Lilly's was getting worse. What I do remember are the diaper changes by the Grandy's in Italy, Texas. Memorable because it's just south of Dallas and it was our second diaper-poopexplosion of the trip. We were being told things by the parental gods. We just didn't care to listen.
When we arrived in Austin, things went downhill in a hurry. The first evening we were there was the night of the rehearsal dinner. It was a lovely affair. My sister, the bride, hadn't seen the kids in a long time and was thrilled to get to spend time with them. Lilly, feeling a little bit drained from her.....well......draining, just wanted to be held. My sister was more than willing to accommodate. Lilly then thanked my sister by barfing on her. All.over.the.bride. There's one most of you didn't get to experience at your rehearsal dinner! The sis took it in stride, but Lilly, Nolan and momma had to cut short their party before the food even arrived. Me? I stayed, of course! Somebody had to represent the family.
Later that night, Lilly threw up some sort of vile milk product all over her bed and pajamas. If you haven't had the pleasure of experience curdled toddler-milkvomit, then you've missed something in life. I really can't explain it to you. This occurred while my dad was visiting with me at the house we rented. Keep in mind that this is one of those familial times in life that often involves the consumption of wine, beer, and other such goodly things. So I was in the middle of indulgence when we had to go fight through milkpuke. Not fun.
The next day started with a wild hangover. Not a good start to wedding day. I should take this time to mention to anyone who will listen that Dogfish Head Brewing's 90 Minute Imperial IPA is a crushing 9.0% ABV, something you should know before drinking three of them in an hour after a rehearsal dinner. But I had no other choice but to fight through it. I had to. After all, we had to meet my out-of-town family for a nice brunch at a local Austin restaurant. Meeting your family for a hangover brunch is often a welcome relief. However, meeting them with a milkvomit-stained daughter and a son who was shitting liquid poo not 24 hours earlier makes for a more interesting challenge. Lilly was clearly not feeling well. Her mood was what you'd expect of a child who had a rough night. But both her and her brother were sucking down apple juice at brunch. Apple juice...that's good, right? I mean, it's got "apple" right there in the title. And apples are good. Right? This will hydrate their poor bodies!
About halfway through lunch, Lilly had a poopie that needed attention. So momma took her outside to change her diaper in the back of our car. After about 20 minutes went by, even my hungover brain began to realize something might not be right. So I braved the bright sun and walked outside. Keep in mind that at this point, the sun to me is vampire-esque. I'm not a fan. So I get to the car conveniently at the time where the diaper is going back onto our daughter. But Lilly still seemed sad or something. It was about this point that I noticed some reddish booger in my daughter's nose. The only reason I noticed it at all was because of the way she was laying down with her head back. So I went digging. Started pulling... and pulling... and started feeling like Arnold Schwarzenegger in Total Recall.
Her nose literally started expanding to the point that I thought we were going to split it open. And out popped an enormous bloody booger. Or at least what I thought was a bloody booger. Upon further review, it wasn't a booger at all. It was a raisin. All swollen up like it would be if you left a raisin in a bowl of water overnight. Immediately we started thinking about the last time the girl had raisins. Sadly, we concluded it was on the drive down from Dallas almost 24 hours earlier. Parents.Of.The.Year. Anyway, after de-shitting and de-boogering the girl, she and her brother finished brunch without incident.
Then we got home.
Something happened at the house. Something awful. Something that even 9 months later still makes me clench a little bit. Lilly "let go" of something holding her insides on the inside. The noise and subsequent smell let us know something was going on. Momma took Lilly to the back room to take care of the problem. But then I heard my darling wife call for help. My wife doesn't call for help. Seriously. This woman blew out her MCL in a swimming pool holding one of our children during their first 4th of July in 2009 and didn't tell anybody for days. So hearing her yell for me to help her was not a sign that things are going swimmingly.
So I come into the bedroom. Hungover. Into a room still reeking of milkvomit. And I see a pool of some brownish-yellow something. The word "pool" gets overused in reference to children's BM's. This was a fucking pool. Like the one you have in your backyard. If Michael Phelps were there, he could have swum laps in it faster than anyone else in the world. A pool. So we put the diaper that was already stressed beyond its operational safety factor back onto the girl and carefully carry her to the bathroom to "drain". This is when the dry heaving started. Mine, not hers. Remember....9% ABV. This was, without question, the most disgusting moment of our parenting careers.
After a half a box of wipes and some deep breathing outside, a phone call to the pediatrician revealed that pedialyte is good for this. Apple juice, which the kids were drinking like 9% ABV Imperial IPA earlier in the day, turns out to be a powerful laxative. Who knew? So now the quest in life is to locate a pharmacy in Austin open on a Sunday afternoon. That was a whole other story.
Did I mention that my sister was getting married?
So the whole purpose of this trip was to be a part of my sister's blessed nuptials. The kids had a starring role in the whole affair, they were responsible for bringing the rings up to the bride and groom. Seeing how they were not yet two when this happened, this was a moment to remember and cherish. Our hopes were slight that this was going to happen at all. Not after all the barfing and pooping and raisins over the previous 48 hours.However, we were surprised that not three hours after Lilly's watery event, the children made a mighty comeback. They did great at their aunt's wedding. They carried rings, and danced the night away with their mom and dad. Later that night, they had a vomit-free evening and we had a nice drive back to Dallas the next morning. The first road trip weekend started fairly awful, but ended up rebounding strong. Lessons were learned, and prices were paid. Shouldn't all weekends be like that?
1 comment:
Yeah, applejuice...I remember reading about that in school.
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