Geoff came home with Ella just before noon and all of us packed in the car as quickly as possible with a goal of being to the Twin Cities by 5:30 pm. In theory, this was a fair plan, in theory.
Everything started off fine and we were right on track. We checked GPS and opted to go the slightly shorter route to the southern suburbs through LaCrosse. When we got to LaCrosse I had to go to the bathroom, so we made a quick stop. E said he was fine so we kept going. We were still doing fine on time so we made a quick run through a drive through and got back on the interstate.
Of course our stops took longer than we thought they were going to. Then we encountered bumper to bumper traffic on the Mississippi River bridge due to an accident and our comfort zone was shot. By the time we got past the accident we were on track to arrive at 6:15 pm. I won't lie, I was kind of crushed.
The whole reason this time thing was so important was because the Relay for Life we were driving to the cities for started at 6pm. Most importantly to me, it started with the "survivors lap" and I wanted to be a part of it. Well, I also didn't, out of embarrassment, but overall my pride won out and I really wanted to walk that special lap.
I kept the kids entertained with a special bin of toys that I only pull out for long car trips or special circumstances. Usually I keep control of the bin and carefully give distractions out one at a time, but I had thrown all caution to the wind and put it directly between the kids for the ride. They went to town.
We made it across state lines with Ella chanting "I yike tickers! Ella yikes tickers!" over and over, and E yelling "mommy Ella is putting stickers all over her carseat! Ella you're naughty!" I inwardly groaned at the mess I was going to be cleaning up later but we pushed on.
In the end we made up a little time and I think the GPS over estimated. We pulled in the parking lot at almost exactly 6 pm. Geoff and I both sighed and decided we would just rush in and see if we could still make it. We found a close-ish parking spot and just as we were about to pull in we heard the tell-tale sound of copious vomiting coming from E's seat. Then we heard it again. I froze. If I remember correctly, I actually wondered if I closed my eyes it would all go away. It didn't.
So we jumped into action. Cleaning E up. Cleaning his car seat up. Changing his clothes. Wiping him down with wet wipes. Overall he nailed his clothes pretty good, but the mess was relatively well contained.
I had given up on the survivor lap, but we still hurried over to see if there was something else cool going on. We walked through the gates to the middle school track and a flurry of doves, freshly released flew over our heads. Then I looked forward to see a group of people in purple shirts walking with a banner that designated them as "survivors."
Our friend saw us and yelled "go Gin! This is your lap!" Geoff looked at me and said "go!"
I looked down at my not purple shirt, shrugged, and got in there.
I got my lap after all and felt great!
After that lap we settled in a little and thought things would settle down. We were wrong. We didn't account for the fact that 4 year olds, and port-a-pottys don't mix. E hasn't had an accident in I don't know how long, but it was inevitable that he would have one then. Also, it was epic. His shoes were toast and I didn't pack extras.
I didn't know what else to do except utter the words that always fix these types of messes when in the Twin Cities..."Target." (In case you don't know, there is a law or something that there has to be a Target every two blocks...well, that and the Twin Cities is it's home base).
So we made an emergency Target run. We stocked up on wipes. They were on sale so I bought 4 packs thinking I would have extras to put away when we got home. We usually buy "natural care," but this time I bought a mixture of "natural care" and another type called "one and done." The idea had appeal to me.
We also bought a two pack of kiddy pjs for E, a pair of Chuck Taylor's (shoes) on clearance and a little too big, and various other crap that was mildly debatable whether we needed.
We didn't pay attention and accidentally used the 15 and under express lane to check out our 400+ items. We realized we were in the wrong lane when we were "gently" reminded by the 12 year old cashier. I was fairly mortified having just finishing scoffing at someone else doing something similar at the grocery store the day before. Probably it was karma.
After appeasing the kids with crappy Target hot dogs we headed back to the relay. We managed to survive a few more hours without anymore disasters and finally decided we were too wimpy to camp out and we really wanted the comforts of our friend's guest room.
It was totally the right choice. Our friends put chocolates on the pillows and bottled waters and flowers on the bedside table. They made all of us comfy and gave us air conditioned privacy and comfort. Ahhhh! It was great!
In the morning...the late morning...we met up with more friends for brunch. Of course we were late which should have been a recipe for disaster with multiple families, but somehow all the kiddos did just fine. Then all of us headed out for a play date at a "chutes and ladders" park.
This is when things got ugly...again.
We no sooner headed out for the park and I got sick. I needed a bathroom ASAP. Again we headed to a Target (again like two blocks), but we hit every red light on the way. Btw, did I mention we used to live in the cities so we know where all the Targets are from memory? Anyway, we made it just in the knick of time. I used the bathroom and got an emergency fill of meds and we were back on our way.
A few minutes later Ella started yelling "poop! I pooped! yucky poooooooooooop!" Geoff and I acknowledged her and commented on how much closer to potty training she is getting. Meanwhile, Ella starts yelling loader "POOOOOOOP! POOOOOOOOP! Mommy POOOOOOOOP! DIAPER CHANGE!"
I can't speak for Geoff, but I wasn't feeling so hot myself and I wasn't feeling the most compassionate so once again I stammered something along the lines of "I know Ella, we will change you in a minute. You are ok."
I was wrong.
When we got to the park there was poop everywhere. Like up to her shoulders and coming out the bottom of her leggings. I don't have words to describe what an epic fail her diaper was.
One of friends walked up to the car just in time to witness the catastrophic disaster and he immediately offered to disappear into the park with E. He asked about sun screen and then the two of them disappeared and left us looking like the worst parents ever.
All I could think was grab the "one and done" wipes. They should help. Of course they will.
I took Ella and laid her down on what I thought was grass, but soon realized was actually dirt and just compounded the problem while Geoff did damage control to her car seat.
As I assessed the situation I seriously gave consideration to lighting her car seat and clothes on fire right there. They were that bad.
For the record, it was more like "1000 and done."
Eventually we gained some sort of control over the mess and joined everyone at the park.
After the park we did a reminiscent drive around the cities and eventually headed home. Unfortunately for us, the Ella incident was not an isolated experience. In fact, we were a couple hours into the drive and planning to stop and visit some of my family when Geoff and I both smelled something...We opted to pull over at the next town in case we needed to buy her pjs bc we had already gone through all the extra clothes I had packed for her.
We stopped in the parking lot of one store and sure enough we needed another outfit, but as luck would have it, the store closed one minute before. We cleaned Ella up again, slapped a diaper on her and reluctantly put her back in her car seat with only a diaper on.
She was furious and we had to endure her screaming at us for a few minutes while we maneuvered our way to the only other option, Walmart.
Geoff ran in and got her some pjs. While he was getting her dressed, I went in to go to the bathroom and wash my hands.
At the risk of being a total snob, I am not a fan of Walmart or their bathrooms. I have not had good experiences. This was no exception. Apparently, there was a city wide water ban so the only option in the bathroom was hand gel.
Have I mentioned how many bodily fluids I had dealt with in the past 24 hours? Yes, I had had other opportunities to wash my hands, but I think I could have gone OCD and it would have been completely acceptable after what I had been through. This was not the time for third world contryesque accommodations.
So what did I do when I got back to the car? You guessed it. Washed my hands with a bunch more "one and dones."
Personally, I'm not sure whether I'm more appreciative of these stupid wipes or annoyed at the false pretenses. Either way, we did not make it home with a stock pile of wipes. We did arrive home with a mountain of laundry though.
Regardless, it was all worth it to walk the survivor's lap, see all the luminaries (pictures to come to Facebook soon), see friends, and favorite places.
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