No sooner had I hit "publish post" on my post about Noah's bout with car sickness, I started to feel a little queasy. And, at 11:00 PM, over 12 hours since this stomach bug/car sickness blipped on my little boys radar for all of two seconds, I got knocked on my butt. I was sick all night and could barely get out of bed on Wednesday. Thank you to my fabulous husband who stayed home from work and left me alone all day Wednesday to try to recoup. By Thursday, I was feeling a ton better, and by Friday, I
felt the pressure was happy to keep my plans to travel to Mississippi to hang in the woods with my sister and her boys.
The drive was about two hours longer than my normal trips to Louisiana, but I was planning to meet up with the my parents and sister about an hour and half from the campsite. Get this. Five miles before my exit to meet the family, I get stuck in bumper to bumper traffic. It took me forty-five minutes to get to my exit. Emma was crying the whole time. Her crying woke up Noah who was covering his ears in the backseat. We finally make it to our exit, and I hear this small voice from the back seat, "Momma, I'm sick." And, he was. Again. For the record, graham cracker vomit is way easier to clean up than strawberry vomit. Both totally gross and not fun, but if I had a choice. Just saying.
Thankfully, reinforcements were about a mile away and helped me clean up and get Emma fed. I may or may not have had a slight breakdown at this point, but seriously, I don't like sick, and there was way too much of it going around this past week. We made it to Mississppi, and the day dawned with one super excited little boy ready to do some
stick gathering exploring.
The land of a million sticks.
Treasures found.
The boys took turns chasing Noah around the property. Talk about some cardio.
Thanks Aunt Mo for convincing me to come. Noah had a blast "camping."
Quote of the weekend: "Momma, you want to build a tree house?"
He wasn't kidding.