Lesson #1

I wanted to write a little about my trip to visit my parents in Kennewick, Washington. To start I feel I need to give a little background into what it is like to take a "vacation" with me. I try... I really do. I am organized. I plan things out. I try to be patient and enjoy each moment. However, NOTHING ever goes like it does in my head. It's a curse that my entire family shares, from my parents down to my sisters and my brother. It only gets worse when we all travel together. It's like watching a Vacation movie with the Griswolds.

Dean and I packed the boys up early Saturday morning and headed north. The drive went very smooth and only required a few stops. Of course, about 45 miles from my parents everyone looses control and cries. I promised the boys we wouldn't get back in the truck for at least a day.

Saturday was a lot of fun. My sister, Rebecca and her son Aiden were in town from Portland along with my nephew, Ethan. Aiden's dad, Karl and Ethan's mom and dad (my sister Mindy and her husband Terry) would all come over later in the evening. We played and sat around and had some good laughs while watching the boys.

Then came Sunday...Easter Sunday. My mom was playing the piano in a special number for Church, so we were all trying to get ready and out the door. We ran out to the truck, jumped in, started it up, looked behind and pulled out to Church. That's when I heard a loud "CRUNCH". Yep, I had run OVER the neighbors car. In my defense, the idiot had parked it in the dumbest spot possible and it ended up in my blindspot. That doesn't work as a "good"reason for running over a car, so I kept quiet. We explained what happened and left for Church, only 10 minutes late. The rest of Sunday went just fine.

My sister that lives in Portland is moving. She also had some weird neck "issue" that caused an extreme headache. I thought I'd be nice and offer to drive over to Portland (3 1/2 hours) and help her clean up her old house and get things moved. It seemed like a nice gesture. I've been taught to offer service when possible. You'd think it would be fine.

My mom, two boys, and I left for Portland on Monday morning. (by the way, Dean had to fly back to Salt Lake Sunday because he had to go to work on Monday. So, he is at home...ALONE!) The drive to Portland is a beautiful drive. You drive along the Columbia River and in the Columbia Gorge. Very green and beautiful. We got to Portland and thought it would work if my mom stayed with the boys and I went with my sister to clean. After cleaning for awhile, we headed back to save my mom.

We got ready for bed and that is when the fun really got started. A few minutes after lying down for the night, I heard a strange sound. It was the sound of Reilly throwing up all over himself and his cousin's crib. AWESOME!! We cleaned up the crib, threw the baby in the tub, and hoped for a better night. It was not to be. Reilly threw up 4 more times throughout the night. The next day was a combination of nightmare and hell. Reilly was sick and we were still cleaning and watching children. After what seemed like a week, we left Portland in the afternoon of Tuesday. Oh wait, I remembered something else I did. I lost the only set of keys we had to the vehicle that would transport us home. We looked everywhere. It was a terrible feeling knowing I had trapped us in Oregon. Finally, after a very sincere prayer by my mom they were found.

Incase my sister is reading this post (which I doubt), I am glad we went over to help her.

Just as we got out of Portland and headed home, Reilly threw up on himself. We pulled over and I jumped out and changed him in a nice meadow. It was cold and he was not happy. The car now had a lovely aroma of vomit. With 3 hours of driving ahead, I was so excited. Luckily, there was no more throwing up during the trip. There was crying and some really terrible weather. Finally we got home!!! Easy sailing ahead... Or so I thought in my now crazy head.

My dad started a bath to put the kids in before putting them to bed. It was a tad bit hot, so my dad held a naked Reilly while I adjusted the temperature. Just as I turned and said it was okay, a strange yellow brownish stream of diarreha started to squirt out. My dad swung Reilly around, spraying the bathroom counter and I did something strange. I cupped my hands togther and started to catch the poop. WHY WOULD I DO THIS?!?!!? Then the smell hit me and I did everything I could not to throw up on my dad. My mom tossed me a towel and I dropped everything on the floor and went to clean-up. The boys had baths and went to sleep. My parents and I cleaned up and tried to forget we had just sprayed the bathroom in poop.

Things were fine until early Wednesday morning when Braedon turned in bed and threw up on himself and on me. Oh good, I get to do it again. Let's just say today has been spent cleaning up throw up from my parents carpet, bed, and kitchen as well as diarreha from a bed, carpet, and children. We did laundry non-stop today. I still have a sick Braedon but am hopeful things will be okay tomorrow. Will I get sick? Will my mom get sick? Lesson #1: Moms don't get sick.