My cousin Brooke and her daughter Evie came. We had fun with them and the girls got to play together. Stella calls Evie "FeeVee."
We had a not so fun trip home. We decided at the last minute that we would try to leave my parents Saturday night instead of Sunday so we were in a frenzy trying to pack and load everything. Brooke and Evie had left about 20 minutes before. We had the car cooling off and were just about to head off and the phone rang. Brooke was on the edge of town getting gas and her car wouldn't start. Its like 200 degrees outside and she has a baby with her. Trauma. So dad and Michael rushed to get them.
Brooke was pretty upset so sweet Michael offered to drive her car back to Dallas and we (me, Brooke, 3 babies) would follow him to make sure the car would make it. Sounds great right. OMG! Remember Yates doesn't dig the car. We get "FeeVee's" carseat in the back, back, back as Stella calls it, babies are all in and we're off. Brooke has a Xanex or two and we're all ok. We think. Yates is a little fussy, but I figured he would kind of fuss himself to sleep. Good lord was I wrong. He went from fussy, to upset, to mad, to irate, to full blown - call 911 - crying so hard he was gagging himself. I'm trying to drive and as mommies know, I can hardly even focus on the road with him screaming. This natural mommy reaction was probably great to have before vehicles were invented, but screaming baby and panicking mommy and 65mph is a bad combo if you ask me. So we stop. Change drivers, I get in the back to calm Y down. We're fine. He falls asleep. We stop again to switch drivers. We're all ok. Back on the highway. Then we hear a little voice in the back saying, "Mommy, poo poo's coming, uh yep "heee" it is, poo poo's coming." Great. Rush to the nearest stop in the middle of NOWHERE, get back off the highway, run into McNastyDonalds of all places, make a toilet paper seat in record time, get S all situated and nothing. Not even a little tinkle. Fabulous. Now of course this stop woke up Y who had just gone to sleep. He is again, hysterical in the car which upsets Evie. So now Brooke is in the back trying to help them both. At this rate we'll never get home. So we offer the girls french fries to keep them happy. Y is fussy, but again I think he'll make it. We all get back in our seats and we're off again. Of course Y freaks out big time again. We pull off the highway again. Change drivers again. I get back in the back with Y again. Get him back to sleep again and I'm about to freak out. Evie is crying for a blanket and I'm worried she's going to wake Y back up but there are no blankets to give her. It just went on and on and on and on and on. We see the skyline and I think we're going to survive b/c Brooke's house is just "by Richardson." Holy Moly! Ever been to Wylie? Its closer to Canada than Richardson. The last 30 miles really weren't too bad. We made it, Brooke's car made it and poor Michael and Sasha made it. The whole time I was wishing I was Michael. Just him and the dog and peace and quiet. What I didn't know what that he couldn't turn on the a/c!!!! UGH! I might prefer screaming babies to a 3 hour car sauna. These are the things we'll look back and laugh about, but at the time I can actually feel the gray hairs growing and the wrinkles deepening.