Earlier this week, I posted some of the highlights of our trip to California. Now for a couple of the not so high points…
1. A Reichert family trip is not complete without some vomit. And no, I am not referring to myself or Chris suffering the effects of knocking back one too many Jim Beams. While I seem to possess a stomach of steel, our daughters have a more delicate constitution (I blame the weak European genes inherited from their father). Now that Sarah is older, she is kind enough to let us know when she is about to upchuck. Then we have all of 30 seconds to find the nearest toilet/bucket/bush or to jerry rig our own crude receptacle a la MacGuyver before the joy begins. But Katie, at age 2, sounds no such alarm. So imagine our surprise, when after a family dinner at our favorite Mexican spot, Las Casuelas Nuevas, Katie gives a little cough, and then proceeds to regurgitate her entire dinner…chicken tenders, french fries, fruit, and the piece de la résistance- a strawberry smoothie which gave the whole affair a pink cotton candy tinge. Sorry to be so graphic but I just want to give you a visual. And it didn’t stop with round one…we suffered three rounds of this while cruising down Highway 111 in our rental. Somewhere between rounds 1 and 3, Chris screamed at me to throw my jacket on her so that she wouldn’t ruin the rich nylon interior of our rented Nissan Xterra. We headed home with the windows rolled down, our noses in the air, and Katie and my new denim jacket from Anthropologie drenched in pink slime (but thank God the Xterra was safe!). The only silver lining was that Sarah was riding home in my in-laws car. Otherwise, I am sure Katie would have triggered Sarah’s very sensitive gag reflex and we would have witnessed the classic domino effect in action.
2. I am currently in the process of assembling a team of physical therapists, masseuses, acupuncturists, and orthopedic specialists to undo the damage that occurred to my back during our trip. Did I A: trip and fall during a strenuous hike? B: Twist my torso in a pathetic effort to play golf? Or C: have to share a bed with a my two-year old daughter for the majority of our stay? Ding ding ding! My in-laws did supply Katie with a small air mattress complete with princess bedding tucked away on the side of our room for her sleeping pleasure. And although Katie initially expressed enthusiasm for her very own bed, she soon found that she much rather preferred to share a bed with her parents…something that is absolutely verboten at home. While my sweet baby girl may be less than 36 inches tall, let me tell you, she takes up a considerable amount of real estate during the night time hours. The graphic below, taken from How to Be a Dad, is the perfect illustration for our night terrors. Katie was especially fond of the divisive “H is for Hell” maneuver (4th on top row), the viselike “Neck Scarf” (3rd on bottom row), and the classic “Snow Angels” (3rd on top row).
So, all in all, a great trip. Sure, my vertebrae may have sustained permanent damage and my Anthropologie jacket will never ben the same again, but such is the price you pay for traveling with the 6 and under set. I can’t wait for our next trip, where I, with back brace and vinyl poncho in hand, will be prepared for anything the kiddos throw (or throw up) at me!