Christmas Roadtrip from H-E-double-hockey-sticks

Every year or so we make a 1500 mile roadtrip to New Mexico to see my family (we live on the east coast). This year we planned to go at Christmas with the 5 kids, wisely leaving the dogs with a neighbor THIS time. I had hoped to get out of town Friday when school got out, but we weren't ready in time, so we left Saturday and I drove 18 hours that first day, and stopped at a hotel about 6 hours from my mom's house.

My husband is the sweetest man on the planet, but absolutely the worst driver I know...by that I mean that he isn't dangerous or anything, but he's totally narcoleptic on the road and can't stay awake more than 15 minutes behind the wheel. We've made this trip 3 times in 3 years (twice when I was pregnant), and he's driven a total of about 6 or 8 hours. Since I can't sleep when he's driving for fear he'll kill all of us, I decided long ago it's less stressful to just drive myself. Then I have the added bonus of not having to be the personal assistant to all the kids... "Sorry, I can't put in that DVD or fix a bottle or pass someone a coke from the cooler...I'm DRIVING!" (hee hee)

So we got there in record time with no drama of any kind. Merry Christmas and all that jazz... we visited with family, played carads, shopped, wrapped, opened, ate, drank and were merry. Then on Christmas Day, my two year old was running a 103 degree temperature despite more than a week on a antibiotic. We delayed our departure by a day and finally left at 5:00 PM on the 27th.

Suddenly, the kids started complaining about being hungry (in the flurry of packing up the car, we FORGOT to feed them). So, exactly one and a half miles into our trip, we BACKTRACKED to hit the only SONIC in town less than a quarter mile from my mom's driveway. I made the unfortunate choice of a green chili coney dog, and ended up having to eat it in the parking lot before we could actually leave. As I was cleaning the mustard and chili from my fingernails, the baby started choking and turning blue...it was his first french fry EVER. He was buckled in his baby seat (facing forward for the first time EVER) so it was impossible to smack his back. People were panicking, trying to unhook him and pound his back at the same time, but as the body will if it can, he expelled the fry along with a bunch of orange baby food and soy milk (another first) into the hands of his 12 year old sister.

Mmmmm, not off to a great start. There was not so much yelling, but screaming as everyone tried to pile out of the van. The back-seat-sister (age 14) was gagging, even though it WASN'T even HER that got puked on. The 9 year old boy was laughing at the sisters, but trying to climb out anyway between the seats. He was stepping on bags of chips, musical toys, the toddlers fingers, etc. The baby was crying hysterically...far more scared by the aftermath than the actual near-death experience, and the toddler bawls because, well, she's two. Husband got into the back seat to do cleanup, ordered someone to toss out the already overflowing trash bag, and I sweetly checked see if anyone had to go to the bathroom since the next couple hundred miles is nothing but desert. A chorus of "NO's!" rang out. My trip odometer read 2.1 miles and I was sitting in the parking lot of a SONIC 2 blocks from my mother's house an hour and a half after we left.

Mile 26.7. Toddler made a strange noise...asked husband to check on her. She was choking on a piece of bubble gum from where, I don't know. He was ordering the 12 year old to help her, but she was buckled in on the OTHER side of the infant (which made that a little difficult.) I started to pull over since everyone was again panicking...this time with good reason maybe since she was turning a little blue. Just as I got on the shoulder, the older sister pulled out the string of slobbery gum and she started crying (which any experienced mom knows means the danger is over) so I pull back on to the highway (if you can call a tiny little 2-lane-road in the middle of nowhere a highway). She continued crying because now she wanted her gum back. Aaaaaaaargh.

Mile 56.7. The boy shouted out that he had to pee...but decided to just go in his Sonic cup so we don't have to stop. (Good choice since like I said there is NOWHERE to stop.) About a minute later he started yelling "Oh NO! Oh no! Oh no!!" There was a HOLE in the styrofoam cup, pee was going in and just pouring right back out the bottom, and he couldn't stop his urine stream. There was lots of commotion, he started crying, the 14-year-old sister beside him was freaking out (I thought I might have to seach for a mental hospital off one of the farm roads), both babies started in, and the 12-year-old was laughing at the back-seaters while my hubby frantically AND fruitlessly looked for another cup to pass back to catch the leak. Uhhh, too late.

I turned onto a farm road and drove way off the highway to commence cleanup. Now everyone had to go to the bathroom. While hubby did cleanup (again, after all, I was doing all the driving)with a baby blanket since we couldn't find the roll of paper towels, the kids lined up behind the car to squat and go potty (except George since he'd already gone in the back seat). Then it was my turn... Aaaaaaaargh. Drip drying, not recommended.

I also had to unpack the overnight bags to find the boy some dry pants and socks. He had packed one extra pair of pants and one extra pair of socks for a 3 day trip in the car. His shoes were also drenched and the smell of urine and 9 year old boy feet did not mix well. We put them in a ziplock and buried them in the back of the van. Which now left us with the problem of how he would go into restaurants and bathrooms the whole way home with no shoes. Aaaaaargh! times 10!

We got going again 5 minutes later and when my husband reached behind the cooler, he found the missing roll of paper towels and said "By the way, I forgot to go to the bathroom while we were stopped". Are you kidding me???

He held it.

We went another couple of hours, then I had to stop. I wanted to put this day behind us and start out fresh the next day. We went to the same hotel we stopped at on the way out. We slept til we woke up, bathed all 7 people, stopped at a Walmart to get new shoes and soy milk which we'd forgotten, fueled up and took off after a brief family meeting where we ALL agreed... NO MORE TRAVELING TRAGEDIES.

Mile 368 (30 minutes into day 2). Mom got pulled over by a Texas State Trooper who politely asked what was the reason for my speed (88 in a 70). "TAKE A LOOK IN THE BACK OF THIS VAN, YOU MORON!!!!" is what screamed through my head, but instead I just said I was anxious to get home. I was flustered enough that I didn't mention that 2 kids had told me they had to go to the bathroom and in an effort to avoid anyone getting peed on, I was FRANTICALLY driving as fast as I could to the nearest toilet. Our map showed a rest stop 5 miles earlier that wasn't there, so we were more desperate than ever to get to an exit.

I got my first speeding ticket in at least 10 years (it ended up costing me $173), the kids thought the whole thing was cool, and everyone went to the bathroom in the nice place off the next exit with huge metal bars from floor to ceiling on all the windows. As I pulled back onto the highway still west of Dallas, Texas, my main thought was not that I would really have to be careful the rest of the way, but rather, "Dammit! Now I have to be careful the whole way. It would NOT be cool to get two tickets in one day!" Two minutes later, we passed the missing Rest Area at exactly 70 miles an hour as my husband said, "By the way, I didn't go to the bathroom at that last stop because there were 7 people in line." Are you kidding me?

He held it AGAIN.

Until we got to the Denny's in Shreveport, Lousiana. The server asked me what I wanted to drink. I asked for a Vodka Tonic. Did you know that Denny's doesn't serve alcohol??? Now THAT was a traveling tragedy at that moment. After two trips to the bathroom EACH child (that's 8 including the potty-training toddler) and two diaper changes, we set out again. We tried to stop at 1:00 in the morning in Merdian, Mississippi because there was a billboard for a 24 hour Subway. We got gas, but the Subway was closed... I almost beat up the guy I was so hungry. Then there were no non-smoking rooms in the whole city. So we pressed on.

To the next major city, Tuscaloosa, Alabama. There was ONE room with the right specs. We pulled in at 4:00 in the morning. We did NOT unpack the overnight bags. The only thing that went in was the pack n' play, the fan and the people. We had to have the older girls to their father's house by 1:00pm the next day (there's a whole story here also, but we'll skip it for now...just know that we couldn't arrive at this house any earlier or any later than 1:00pm). We set the alarm and arranged for a wakeup call at 8:00am to allow us to get there on time. As I was drifting off to sleep, I realized that 8:00am HERE is 9:00am THERE, so I dragged myself from the fog and changed the alarm (thank goodness). The baby was very restless and fussing since he was teething, so I finally just held him in the crook of my arm til morning while I dozed for 3 hours. I could not feel my whole arm for hours after we started moving.

We dropped off the girls at 12:59, ate lunch and pulled into our driveway at 4:00pm. The trip odometer read 1350 miles and change. It felt like 3000. If I start saving now, I'll have enough money in about 10 years to fly us out. Course if we do that, then our youngest can't go to college. Besides, why would I give up all that "quality" family time in the car? It doesn't get any better than that. And of course, what would I have to blog about then???