A fun story for Hester's future therapist
Last night was miserable. Absolutely horrible. And it was totally preventable and completely our fault.
For some foolish reason, Petunia and I thought it would be okay to schedule our first post-baby haircuts with Linda at 8:30pm last night.
You see where this is going.
Hester'd had a great day, although she hadn't slept much. I figured, "Fine, I'll feed her at home and put her into her car seat all drowsy. She'll fall asleep on the Pike, we'll get our haircuts, and then we'll come home." Easy as pie, right? And nothing she hasn't done before, too (minus the actual haircuts part). She's usually a pro on the Mass Pike, but not this time.
This time, she went from sleepy gritchy complaining to full-on screaming and sobbing the very minute I hit the Pike. By the time I hit the Millbury exit, she was so worked up she vomited all over herself, her car seat, her toys, and even the back seat of the car (I'm telling you, the girl's got range). Bad Mama that I am, I decided not to risk getting off at 495 or Framingham in search of a clean bathroom; I stayed on the road till the next rest stop. Which, in this instance, was still 30 miles away.
I wanted so badly to turn around, but Petunia was stranded in Boston. She needed a ride home.
Here's what's not fun: Watching your squalling infant marinate in her own puke while hurtling down the interstate at 75 MPH. (She was a little happier after she barfed, but not much.)
Thank goodness for the family bathroom at the Natick plaza, that's all I'm saying. I got Hester, her car seat, and her toys cleaned up, and she fell asleep for the rest of the ride.
However, she woke up again at Linda's house and BOY HOWDY was she unhappy to be Somewhere Other Than Home. She wanted was to go home. She also wanted to eat, but she was so worked up that she couldn't suck. The low point came around 10:15pm--Petunia and I were sitting in the parking lot of a Hess station trying to soothe our tiny daughter and to buy earplugs in their convenience store (if only). We finally decided that Hester would eventually settle down and that we needed to keep moving. Petunia had the rough job--she sat in the back seat with Hester while Hester screamed and barfed a few more times--and I went to my Happy Place and tried to drive safely.
We made it home okay, though considerably worse for wear. Hester fell asleep about halfway through the ride. She woke up chipper and cheerful at 5am this morning, playing with her feet and smiling at the world. I wish I could say the same thing about myself.
In case you're interested, our haircuts look great. Good thing, too. Mine's gotta last till Hester turns 10.
For some foolish reason, Petunia and I thought it would be okay to schedule our first post-baby haircuts with Linda at 8:30pm last night.
You see where this is going.
Hester'd had a great day, although she hadn't slept much. I figured, "Fine, I'll feed her at home and put her into her car seat all drowsy. She'll fall asleep on the Pike, we'll get our haircuts, and then we'll come home." Easy as pie, right? And nothing she hasn't done before, too (minus the actual haircuts part). She's usually a pro on the Mass Pike, but not this time.
This time, she went from sleepy gritchy complaining to full-on screaming and sobbing the very minute I hit the Pike. By the time I hit the Millbury exit, she was so worked up she vomited all over herself, her car seat, her toys, and even the back seat of the car (I'm telling you, the girl's got range). Bad Mama that I am, I decided not to risk getting off at 495 or Framingham in search of a clean bathroom; I stayed on the road till the next rest stop. Which, in this instance, was still 30 miles away.
I wanted so badly to turn around, but Petunia was stranded in Boston. She needed a ride home.
Here's what's not fun: Watching your squalling infant marinate in her own puke while hurtling down the interstate at 75 MPH. (She was a little happier after she barfed, but not much.)
Thank goodness for the family bathroom at the Natick plaza, that's all I'm saying. I got Hester, her car seat, and her toys cleaned up, and she fell asleep for the rest of the ride.
However, she woke up again at Linda's house and BOY HOWDY was she unhappy to be Somewhere Other Than Home. She wanted was to go home. She also wanted to eat, but she was so worked up that she couldn't suck. The low point came around 10:15pm--Petunia and I were sitting in the parking lot of a Hess station trying to soothe our tiny daughter and to buy earplugs in their convenience store (if only). We finally decided that Hester would eventually settle down and that we needed to keep moving. Petunia had the rough job--she sat in the back seat with Hester while Hester screamed and barfed a few more times--and I went to my Happy Place and tried to drive safely.
We made it home okay, though considerably worse for wear. Hester fell asleep about halfway through the ride. She woke up chipper and cheerful at 5am this morning, playing with her feet and smiling at the world. I wish I could say the same thing about myself.
In case you're interested, our haircuts look great. Good thing, too. Mine's gotta last till Hester turns 10.
Labels: Hester Willa, Mamaville
posted by Clementine at 1:25 PM
6 Comments:
OH NO! This is so terrible. I'm sorry Hester! AND I'm sorry Clementine and Petunia!!!
I'm glad you got good haircuts! Wow, just think how "pretty" your hair will be in ten years! (I don't mean your hair isn't pretty I mean any hair without a haircut for 10 years is SUPER GROSS.)
I know. Even Locks of Love wouldn't take that shit.
I'm so relieved that Hester is having a good day today. She's sleeping like a fiend, poor baby. Last night's misadventure took a couple of years off my life; I hope it didn't take a couple of years off hers, too.
Ick.
All round, well, except for the good haircuts.
So, question.
What's up with the random gay pride flag on 395??
Do you mean the one on 290 as you head through the center of Worcester? It's in a district where there are many queer-owned businesses: bars, restaurants, clubs, etc. I always find it uplifting.
As did we. I'd actually NEVER driven through the city before last week. Always...around it.
Oh I feel for you! I can remember once coming home from NYC on 95 and my then 4 month old WOULD NOT STOP screaming. While hubby drove I literally leaned over the carseat to give him the boob -- for about an hour until he fell asleep! You should have seen the other driver's faces. Thank Goodness those days are over -- and you'll get through it!
DS-L
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