My apologies to convenience stores everywhere...

At this point in my life, I think I can safely call myself a “seasoned” mom. Obviously, that doesn’t mean I have all the answers. In fact, usually I don’t. 2,675 nights of hardly any sleep will definitely affect your intelligence. But after 3 kids, 13,000 diaper changes, trips to the ER, hundreds of sleepless nights and countless games of hide and seek later I think that qualifies me for the status of “seasoned”.
I have seen a lot of crazy things these past 7 years. I’ve come into a room to see my 6 month old baby rolling across the carpet leaving a trail of diarrhea in his wake. I’ve found marker all over the walls and furniture. I’ve seen my kids eat dog food. I’ve dropped off my 7 year old at school wearing her tinker bell snuggie because that’s all she wanted to wear. I’ve seen hundreds of bowls of cheerios catapulted off the high chair. I’ve seen my fine china teacups being thrown across the room and breaking into little pieces. I don’t know how many times I’ve found legos in the toilet and rocks under my pillow. I’ve walked into the kitchen to find my 2 year old making snow angels with a box of spilled rice crispy cereal.
I’ve decided to call these my “twilight zone” moments as a mom. It’s when time seems to slow down and everything seems to be happening in slow motion. It’s when I don’t have any clue what to do but can’t curl up in a fetal position either.
This brings me to August 27th. I thought maybe I had seen it all. I was actually feeling pretty on top of my game. Whenever you get that feeling, just know that soon you will be crashing hard back to reality. We had just enjoyed 4 fun filled days of vacation and it was time to head back home. We had 2 cars so the boys piled in one and I took the girls with me. Everyone was happy, Emma and Katie were laughing in the backseat and taking turns playing the Ipod. About an hour into the drive Katie, my almost 2 year old, started to whimper a little. Then she started to cry. I turned on some soft music and waited for her to fall asleep. About 30 minutes later Emma had to go potty sooooo bad that we pulled off the freeway and found a gas station. Emma jumped out and I unbuckled Kate from her carseat. She smiled at me like she was happy to be set free.
We entered the gas station to find a long line waiting for the bathrooms. Just as I started to tell Emma she would have to wait, I felt Katie’s body go stiff and before I could do anything she started to projectile vomit- everywhere. Her head was facing over my shoulder and the rack of chips and pepperoni took a direct hit. Another “twilight zone” moment had just begun for me. Time seemed to slow down. I saw Emma plug her ears and face the wall. 2 other kids in line for the bathroom covered their mouths and ran for the exit. The teenage boy ringing people up was looking at me in horror. I held her out in front of me and tried to use my body as a human vomit shield. It just kept coming and coming. It was pouring down me and puddling onto the floor. When the gagging sounds finally stopped I looked up to see that the line for the bathroom had parted like the red sea and someone was holding the door open for us. 10 feet sure seems like a long way when you’re leaving a trail of vomit behind you.
I did my best to clean her up. There was no hope for me, unless I stripped down naked and ran for the car. But I figured I had scarred these poor people enough already. About 5 minutes went by and I opened the door to find the poor kid cleaning up the disgusting mess, and all the same people still waiting in line (because of course, he was the only one working!). I saw lots of sympathy smiles, and some faces that looked like they now had a grayish tint to them. I stood there, covered in throw-up, and offered my most sincere apology. I was on the verge of tears. Two guys that were obviously truckers were the most sympathetic. One of them, holding his beef jerky and diet soda, came over and said, “Don’t worry, we’ve all got kids and we’ve all been there”. He opened the door for me and I walked outside with my head hung a little lower than when I walked in.
I didn’t dare look back, I knew I would see a poor kid with a mop bucket, a rack of ruined food, and about 10 people that felt very sorry for me. As I buckled Katie into her carseat, I looked back at Emma who still had her ears plugged.
“Are you ok, Emma?” I yelled to get her attention. She unplugged her ears just long enough to say, “I knew I should have ridden with dad!” I rolled down all the windows and got back on the freeway. Just another day in paradise, can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings……