I hopped in my freshly detailed car this afternoon with excitement.  My husband had slaved away for 2 hours making the car look practically brand new, inside and out.  I had a wonderful party to attend in honor of the cutest little one year old today! OHmommy, your babies are the sweetest! We had a great time - T3 was running around playing with all the other kids, and GG was being a bit clingy but came into his own toward the end. It was such a pleasure meeting OHmommy’s family, and it was so nice to speak Polish to someone other than my own parents.

Anyhow, here’s where the night takes a turn. At about 7pm my babies give me the “we’ve hit a wall and need to go home signal.” And, with the help of OHmommy’s husband (what a chivalrous gentleman!) I pack my kids in the car to drive home. Now this drive is about 40 minutes, and I am feeling confident that the kids will be asleep by the time I turn the corner. No such luck. GG starts wailing, and T3 starts yelling at him to be quiet, which doesn’t help the matter. But I continue on, and after about 20 minutes all is quiet in the car. They aren’t sleeping, but they aren’t causing me to have an migraine anymore. So, I am about to turn into my driveway and I hear T3 hiccup. Following this hiccup is the biggest projectile vomit hitting the back of my perfectly detailed leather seat. “I PUKE MAMA!” he’s crying. And again, another fountain of puke hits the back of my seat. I gun it, pull into my driveway, and jump out of the car. “Baby, what happened?” I ask, knowing full well that he has had issues with carsickness in the past when we drive at night. As I open the car door, I am greeted by a 2 year old with vomit covering him from head-to-toe, as well as the entire back of the driver’s seat and the car seat. I look at GG, and he’s sitting there staring at us thinking to himself “Mama, when are you going to put me to sleep?” He starts wailing. For a moment I panic… (For some backstory - my husband turns 30 on February 26, and he is currently at his brother’s house celebrating by playing Rock Band on the XBox 360.) I am alone, with 2 screaming and tired kids. It’s freezing outside and I am standing in the dark on an ice patch in my driveway in heels.

Breathe.

I pull out T3, and get covered in vomit in the process. I stick him in the garage. Next GG. I pull him out and grab T3 by the hand and we go into the laundry room. I strip down T3 wipe as much off as I can, and take them both uptairs, where “Max and Ruby” will be babysitting T3 while I put GG to bed. I get GG into his jammies and go put him down. I come back for my halfnaked oldest, and stick him in the shower. Then jammies, then to bed.

*whew* I can breathe now. I am amazing… nope, not quite, I still have a car full of puke to clean in the freezing cold. *damn* I go outside and try to pull the carseat out… no such luck. So, I pull off the fabric cover, making the mess that much worse, but hey I have to do something. I wipe as much as I can in the dark, and realize that it’s under the carseat oozing onto my freshly cleaned leather interior as well. *damn again* I try to get the carseat out again, and this time I slice my finger open.

OK, that’s it. I am done. I give up. My husband is just going to have to slave away again tomorrow.

Now, I have thrown the cover and the offensive clothing in the wash, and I’ll be damned if my ass is going to get off the couch while I watch my TIVOed programs.

I need some ice cream. And a shot of something.