Tales of Holiday Cheer, Volume 1

So we last left off on Friday, 12/17. Ironically, that was the day that things started to become a bit challenging for us as a family. So we'll begin there...

Friday evening, Daddy became very sick. He started throwing up around midnight, and was off-and-on queasy and vomiting until morning, then just generaly malaise all day. I know how he felt that day because we were there for most of it. We weren't supposed to be, though. Since Daddy was too ill to go to Tucson for Uncle Chris's graduation, Grandma had the great idea that we should all (including you, me, Grandma and our friends Bruce and Brenda) go down in one car: Grandma's car. Just over halfway to Tucson, driving fast on a tight timeframe, you vomited. A lot. All over yourself and the car seat straps. I managed to stop the vomit tidal wave by holding a blanket to your chest, and we hightailed it to the nearest truck stop. A decision was made over my weak ojections that we should all just return home and not inflict further driving upon an obviously ill child. I held my breath for when I too would get this lovely affliction.

In fact, you never threw up again and I didn't become ill. By Sunday morning, everyone was feeling good enough to begin our journey to Vegas to see Jen, Scott and baby Jackson. Hurrah, we thought. Finally a break. Oh we were so wrong.

First, we got lost in town. How is this possible? We've both driven to Vegas a half-dozen times. Well, the west side is developing and changing more all the time. New freeways where there weren't even dirt roads before and no ability to see through the desert miles to the next major thoroughfare due to hundreds of new humongoid homes in the way. So, we got a bit lost. That was fairly easily remedied, and a half hour, two maps, directions from a nice lady in Walgreens and a few curse words later, we were on the right path. In the midst of course, we used up gasoline. That was a handy thing later as we were climbing a hill 30 miles outside of Wikieup, the next pisshole town on our way to Vegas and the happy gas meter had been glowing bright yellow for "EMPTY" for 10 miles already. Bless the Gas Gods, there was a "town" at the top of the hill called - I am not making this up - Nothing, AZ. Well Nothing has one single rickety gas pump. Thank God. We filled the tank about 1/2 full and headed on to Wikieup for our preplanned lunch and diaper-change pitstop.

So, on to Wikieup. Wikieup has a handful of houses, but the normal tourist will notice only the single grimy Texaco gas station with a built-in Subway counter. Many times have I stopped there for much-needed nourishment, and this time was no different. We filled the tank the rest of the way, and went in to fill our tummies. Nobody was starving after the previous day's vomiting fun, but we all ate a bit. Then we went out, put our drinks in the car and while daddy hung out to wait, I took you and the diaper bag back inside to find a changing table. Of course, the grimy Texaco-slash-Subway didn't have a changing table in the restroom. So we walked back to the car to grab your blanket and we headed to a nearby picnic table to change your diaper. I lifted you onto the table and suddenly something changed. I couldn't bend over to reach you. I sat down and managed to change you very quickly as within minutes the pain and spasms in my back increased to the point where I could no longer even sit. As I slid you down from the table and held on to your arm for dear life, I slid myself to lying on my back on the bench. And I screamed...