Y works from home about 90% of the time but does go into the office for certain meetings and when a product is being tested. Every Monday he has on-site meetings. When the meetings are done, he heads home. Monday, the Little Miss was being extra sensitive. It's happened a few times recently but is SO unlike her usual self. That morning Y had a sneezing fit while she was eating breakfast and she burst into tears. Later that morning I was watching the DVR'd episode of The Bonnie Hunt Show featuring the Pioneer Woman doing a cooking segment. Sophie and I were playing as I distractedly watched the show and I laughed at something that was said on TV - more tears!
It was now time for lunch so I prepped her meal and got her started eating. I walked just a few feet away to prep MY lunch and MORE tears. She would not calm down unless I was sitting right there. I texted Y with "OMG! Constant tears over here!" It was just one of those moments that grates on your nerves. I don't care how calm and patient you may be but constant bursts of tears for no real reason will begin to drive you batty. Anyway, I decided I'd wait until Y got home to eat despite my now throbbing head and growling tummy. The Peanut and I decided to go outside for a while - it was upper 70's and a gorgeous day. Remembering Y may be calling soon, we headed back inside shortly after 1pm. He finally calls around 1:30 - meeting ran late but he was on his way.
Five minutes later the phone rings again. Y. Again. His car had died on his way out of the parking lot and he needed me to come get him. Parents, you know you can't just grab the baby and go. You have to check if the diaper bag is packed, get a bottle/juice/snacks, and a few toys to entertain the little one. Add to that I have to clean up all the toys because our greyhound, Duncan, will eat Sophie's toys if left to his own devices. I eventually make it to Y's work site to only be stopped by security. It just so happens that Y's work is on the same campus as a large missile maker for the US and Foreign militaries. I explain why I'm there and security is sufficiently confident this disheveled wife in an old t-shirt and yoga pants with a baby in the backseat is not a terrorist trying to bomb the missile maker.
We're told the tow truck will be about 45 minutes so we head on over to the broken down car and wait. The Little Miss is being surprisingly good considering her earlier temperament and the fact it was nap-time and she wasn't napping. Y calls security to let them know a tow truck will be coming. This was pointless because a while later, security calls him back wanting to confirm that despite him just telling them a tow truck was coming that he REALLY meant a tow truck was coming. Once security was assured the tow truck wasn't a bomb-laden vehicle the driver was allowed through. By this time an hour had passed. My throbbing headache was now a THROBBING HEADACHE. It's now approaching 4pm and Y nor I had eaten...forget any dinner plans...fast food it is!
Sophie and Friend, our other greyhound.
After we're home an hour or so we get the news...bad fuel pump. Fuel pumps aren't cheap. So long Christmas gift savings!
Tuesday comes along. The repair shop calls in the afternoon letting us know the car was done. We head out and the Little Miss falls asleep just before we get there. I let Y out and make sure all is okay before heading home. We're restricted to just one route because that particular day not only was our usual traffic-avoiding-shortcut route closed for construction but so was the interstate. Crews were resurfacing and traffic was at a stand-still. Tuesday was also a day of extremely high winds causing major dust storms here in the desert. All of this equaled bumper to bumper traffic at a dead stop just 10 miles from the house. The car stopping caused Sophie to wake. She was a little fussy but I kept her entertained as we inched along. We finally make it through the traffic and just as I turn the corner, onto our street she begins a hard, scared cry. Next thing I know she's gagging and throwing up as I'm pull into the garage. I throw the car in park, jump out, try to unbuckle her as fast as I can so she's not choking and well, it wasn't pretty. She's covered in vomit, I'm covered in vomit, the car and car seat are covered as is the towel I grabbed to help catch things.
Y was about 5 minutes behind us and by the time he pulls in, I'm standing in the garage, covered in puke, with Sophie just sobbing on my shoulder. We eventually get her inside, get the car cleaned up (the car seat was attacked later) and get her calmed down. Thirty minutes or so passed before she was "back to normal". I threw all the puke-covered items in the laundry and got myself in the shower since the smell was beginning to make me queasy. She gets better and better as the evening wears on and I don't worry too much about her losing just about everything she'd had all day.
Then, to top the night off, as I was cooking dinner, Sophie was walking with her Fisher Price Lion walker from one end of the house to the other. Duncan, our greyhound, came over to see what she was doing. Sophie got down to crawl and ended up under his belly. He freaks out, and in an attempt to get away, steps on her leaving her with some pretty good scrapes on her arm, shoulder, and face. Here we go again! Despite the nasty looking scrapes, she was over it quickly but we were thinking "What else can go wrong!?"
And, of course, Wednesday was not without its own "disaster". Y burnt his hand pretty badly when he was taking the iron skillet out of the oven. The hot pad he was using slipped and the very HOT handle hit the heel/palm of his hand. Poor guy, his hand was throbbing, majorly red and blistering just moments after it happened.
The night's not over yet, but so far ::knocks on wood::, nothing has happened today! Yay! But I think we're going to follow The Peanut's lead and have a drink!
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