Home Again

I’m home from vacation. Back to the grind. (Sniff.) In a mad rush of adrenaline yesterday, after pulling into our driveway after a 2-day trek from Hilton Head, Super Hubs and I unloaded, unpacked, did 3 loads of laundry, straightened the house, planned meals for the week, and grocery shopped. Whew!! So I treated myself to a spa pedicure this morning. But before you call me a Princess, let me tell you that this pedicure comes on the heels of a horrific weekend back from vacation, reminding us of our horrific weekend to vacation.

Saturday: Unfortunately, I was awakened at 2am by Rock Star who said he was sick to his stomach. I settled his cold, clammy, pale self onto the villa’s living room couch, with a damp rag and nearby wastebasket. He was awake for the next few hours, frequently running into the bathroom. And, being the kind and nurturing mother that I am, I was up with him.
Fortunately, by the time we left in the morning for our journey back to Chicago, Rock Star was feeling better. We had a full 10 hours drive until we got to our hotel in Lexington that evening. Because the women in the family had a yen for chicken ‘n dumplings, we headed to a Cracker Barrel for a late dinner. Unfortunately, midway through the meal, a strangely quiet Little Squirt with no apparent appetite suddenly jumped up and said, “I fink I’m going to frow up.” Super Hubs raced him off to the men’s room, where my poor baby barfed his guts out. Many times. I then took him into the minivan and changed his clothes while the family finished dinner. He continued to be sick to his stomach several more times in the van and then back in the hotel. I must comment on Little Squirt’s incredible tidiness while vomiting in the van. It was not nearly the carnage it could have been. We resourcefully used:
A.) An empty McDonald’s sweet tea cup.
B.) An empty McDonald’s diet coke cup.
C.) A garbage bag when the above two were filled.

Sunday: Unfortunately, Little Squirt was up at 5am vomiting some more. The kind hotel clerk allowed us to “borrow” the room’s garbage can for our car trip, which became his Nearest and Dearest Friend of the Moment, as he continued vomiting all through the state of Kentucky. This was his Action Plan for four hours:
Gaze out window at boring scenery- vomit- gaze out window at boring scenery -vomit.
He developed pettechiae on his face from retching so hard. But by noon he felt better, asked for some sprite, then gobbled down a personal pan pizza at our lunch stop. He’s been fine ever since. Weird.
Fortunately, we arrived home fairly early in the day.
Unfortunately, we entered the house to find that our black cat had pulled out much of his fur and trailed it all over our home during the past 16 days of our absence. Stress, maybe?? Was he was painting on his external world the cry of his internal world, “I miss the warmth of my family”?? Like “cutting” for cats! Or maybe he was just trying out a new ‘do? I don’t know. I’m sure I’ll figure it out when I become a Pet Psychic.
Unfortunately, when I got out the vacuum to clean up the cat fur, I found that the vacuum was broken. Done. Dead. Finished with this world. It had come to the end of its shelf life, in horrendous timing. So I assigned Butterfly the task of picking up all the fur by hand. Imagine, if you will, the joyful way she embraced that task after a full day of sitting next to a vomiting brother.
Unfortunately, we discovered that Little Squirt’s second story bedroom window had been smashed by a rock. Vandalism. Weird again. So we had to file a police report with the same officer that came a’calling back in March. He’s getting to know us a little too well.

So that was our past 48 hours. I’m kinda feeling the need for another vacation already….