sometimes you feel like a mom...sometimes you don't

We drove to Boston for a long weekend and to spend Mother’s Day with Donnie’s mom. We packed up the car and were ready to go ahead of schedule (I’ll wait if you want to applaud).

Bug asked that I sit in the backseat with him. Fine with me—and probably easier in the long run than craning my neck around the seat to talk to him throughout the 8-plus hour trip.

About an hour into the trip, Bug told me his “froat” hurt. No surprise, the family we share a sitter with had strep throat during the week and even though the boys hadn’t been together for a couple of days they played together before he was diagnosed and we were hope, hope, hoping that Bug wouldn’t get it. Shortly after that, he announced his tummy hurt and then about two minutes later that he was going to spit out. Oh, and spit out he did. From my vantage point it seemed a bit like a scene from a badly acted/badly written horror movie a scene that I would look away from if I were watching it on the big screen. As Donnie pointed out, it was a gift that I was in the backseat and not in front of Bug.

So, why did I feel like a mom?

Prior to leaving the house a little voice inside my head told me to take Lysol wipes, paper towels, trash bags and a big towel just in case something like this happened.

Why did I not feel like a mom?

Everything I needed was in the trunk except for one itsy bitsy teeny weeny partially dried-out package of wipes that was left in the backseat from another time.

To make a long story short (or maybe just less long), we got the little guy all cleaned up and back on the road again. He was fine—even singing along to Bruce. (Yes, I LOVE it that he requests to hear Bruce on the drive…and he does so all on his own!) Then shortly after lunch he got sick again (I had my goods next to me this time and was more or less ready). We ended up in rush-hour traffic everywhere and got to Boston about three hours later than planned. Bug was terrific despite having to get cleaned up twice, being stuck in traffic, begging for a cookie (yeah, right) and a malfunctioning DVD player.

The weekend was nice. A rainy day in Boston on Saturday then off to the Public Garden on Sunday to see the ducklings and ride a swan boat. We prepped Bug by reading Make Way for Ducklings a few times last week. When we arrived we saw children dressed as ducklings and Officer Michael. Had we been earlier we could have taken part in the annual parade. Who knew?! Apparently everyone else in Boston from the crowd size. Oh well…it was great being there. (The photos below are NOT from Sunday...I'm not that organized.)

The drive home yesterday was uneventful other than a bit of construction on the Jersey Turnpike. We were home in 8.5 hours. As we left my in-laws' house, Bug announced he wasn’t going to spit out and stayed true to his word…I sat in the backseat just to be safe. Luckily, I can hear Bruce just fine from there.

When we were about 10 minutes from our house, Bug announced he wanted to drive for a little bit instead of going home. Sigh...