* Annabelle had the worlds worst blowout as we were pulling into the airport. Never had she ever done such a thing. Christopher stripped her down in the parking lot while I attempted to clean her car seat, gagging the entire time.
* She choose sitting on my lap on the plane as the perfect opportunity for her first time to throw up all over herself, the seat, and me. I walked through the airport smelling like a garbage heap and not looking much better. I had no pride left.
* She had two more blowouts on the way to the hotel.
* Vomit City, USA
* Christopher and I were hit with the same cursed virus.
* She lay on the hotel bed calling for her Memere and saying "tummy, tummy" over and over.
* We visited four (count them- 1,2,3,4) urgent care centers/er's because she kept getting sick, having blowouts, burning with fever and barely eating or drinking. I was so worried she was dehydrated. On the way to the last hospital I told Christopher that I wouldn't leave until they gave her an iv. The doctor refused and the only thing that kept me from hurling the stool at him was that I was holding the sick baby. Five days later and I'm still so mad at him.
All I wanted to do was curl up and take a 72 hour nap.
But it certainly wasn't all poop and puke. We went swimming and to the playground with the cousins and to a candy store Christopher visited when he was little. We spent a few hours at the beach.
Annabelle's grandmother and aunt had a little Hawaiian birthday party for her. She was somewhat of a stick in the mud the whole time but I thought it was the sweetest.
Our fourth anniversary was on Wednesday. The traditional four year gift is fruits and flowers we thought it appropriate to visit a botanical garden (which turned out to be a rainforest as hot as the surface of the sun) and aquarium. We were childless and carefree, just like back in the olden days of early 2014.
We returned home on Thursday without anyone throwing up on the plane or messing up their car seat. Miracles still happen!