So in April I had a breakdown of sorts, due to not being with my family in NJ on Easter. In this emotionally charged moment I made the decision that I would take the kids to NJ this summer, by myself. And it would be fine. It would be great. I had to do it.
Well on June 8th, with only about 2 hours of sleep, we took off for NJ. I rocked the airport. I had this idea the night before to tie ropes to my stroller for each child to hold on to. We looked like this walking through Sky Harbor.
Many people stopped me to tell me how genius this was, and how well behaved my kids were. I was feeling pretty good.
Then the flight was just rough. Olivia did amazing, sat two rows back in a window seat and I literally didn't see her the entire flight. Abigail and Nathan did pretty good, happy to watch shows on their tablets. The biggest issue was Abigail resting her feet on the seat in front of her. But the lady was mostly understanding, and Abigail was trying, she'd just randomly absent-mindedly put her feet out. Eliza however was a handful. She only slept for about 20 minutes of the entire 4 hour flight. But we did it.
Then about two nights into our trip Eliza screams all night. To the point that I'm thinking I should maybe go to the emergency room because none of my kids ever cried that loud for that long. It was really the most miserable night I've ever had. Ended up going to an urgent care type place at 7:00AM and they thought she might have coxsackie virus. She had a few sores on the insides of her cheeks. She also had an upset stomach and puked all over the waiting room. She was pretty grumpy the next week or so, but fortunately didn't have any more nights like that one.
Then a few days later I found myself back at the urgent care with Nathan. He had an ear infection and it was his turn to be a bit miserable.
But despite the lack of rest we had a lot of fun and made some great memories. My kids went to the Liberty Science Center, saw a puppet show of Jack and the Bean Stalk with their great-grandmother, went to the beach multiple times, went to Fun Time America, went to Chuck-E-Cheese, went the St. Mary's Fair, went to the Keansburg Boardwalk, went fishing with their Pop, and spent lots of time outside swimming and exploring. Lots of fun times. Fun for them, exhausting for every adult around them.
Then the day we traveled home was straight from hell. I don't even want to relive all the horrors of that day, but just know I cried, like sobbed, bawled, hysterically cried about 30% of the flight home. It was just so hard. And there was a lack of friendly faces, and people were just mean and I just wanted to be home. I wanted be home so badly that I wanted to drive 3 hours after the 5 hour flight. In my mind the kids would sleep in the car, when we got home Aaron would carry them to their beds where they would sleep peacefully the rest of the night and I would climb into my own glorious bed and sleep soundly. Of course it didn't go that well, no where near that actually. About an hour away from home Eliza starts puking. Everyone wakes up, we have windows down so the smell doesn't make everyone else throw up. About the same time I get a text from Aaron telling me our AC is broken and it's 88 degrees upstairs. So when we finally do get home everyone is wide awake and crazy, we have to clean puke covered baby, car seat and van. I can't sleep in my own bed because it's hot as heck, and I can't stop laughing, then crying, then laughing again. Fortunately my mother-in-law drove me home and she helped get kids in bed, and Aaron cleaned the puked on stuff while I cleaned the puked on baby, and I was so exhausted the couch made a fine bed. And they were able to fix the AC quickly that night.
Then the next day I start not feeling so hot. The day after that I know I'm definitely sick. I have strep throat again, and am living in the misery of high fever, body aches, and a throat so sore I can't swallow my own saliva. My saving grace through this is that at least it coincides with Aaron being off from work and I've been able to lay in bed and rest. Though I miss him so much I wish we could actually be spending time together instead of me laying in bed convinced I'm going to be the first person to die from strep throat.
And that's the start of our summer. Hopefully July is more restful!