Yes, I've been on vacation. A mad cap tour of the Washington D.C. metro area. I like to write about these trips backwards, so I'll start with the flight home.
We flew Virgin America, which I loved, but not enough to embrace turbulence. I hate turbulence and have been known to grip the knees of strangers during bouncy flights. To prepare for this. I took a leftover xanax from my crown. Bless my dentist. Then I had a glass of wine. The plane bumped, and I took another half xanax. I was still wide awake, and freaking out. Rob asked the flight attendant to ask the pilot how long the turbulence would last, which she kindly did, and then she brought me more wine on the house and said she'd keep it coming. So, if you're counting, that's .75 mgs of xanax, and two good sized glasses of chardonnay.
The turbulence ends, and I'm feeling better, thought not at all sleepy. I arrange my head and arms on my tray table and try to sleep, but no dice. Then Leila starts getting jittery. She's bored, she can't sleep, she's starting to come out of her skin, she's hungry, etc. etc. I tell her to eat the peanut butter sandwich I made for her. She says its gross because the honey has saturated the bread and the whole thing is a sticky mess. So I tell her to suck it up and try to sleep, and she keeps jittering and whining. I look over to Rob who is, of course, asleep. The man can sleep anywhere, any time, and I can hardly sleep in a bed, in the dark, after some ambien.
Suddenly Leila says. "I'm gonna throw up! I have to go to the bathroom! I'm gonna throw up!!!" I manage to find the air sickness bag and the poor thing barfs her little guts out into the bag. I will note, now, that she did not end up eating the gross peanut butter sandwich, so don't start blaming me for her stomach upset. I woke Rob, and made him get up to let us into the aisle (he didn't want to, he wanted us to climb over him) and I took my poor little baby to the bathroom to wash her face and hands, get some apple juice and fizzy water, and then we sat back down.
She ended up throwing up 4 more times, once in the car on the way home. I got a pile of air sickness bags from the flight attendant, and Rob said he probably would need one, too. He felt like crap, and was in no shape to help me deal with a puking 11 year old. One of the bags ripped as I handed it to Leila, and she puked in her lap. I made use of the airplanes clean-up kit, which includes rubber gloves, bags for puked on clothes, regular wipes, aromatherapy wipes, and a haz mat bag for all your clean up items. Worked pretty well.
So, its a good thing that all my drugs and the third glass of wine didn't kick in. I had to get all the luggage and carry everything, and take Leila to the bathroom in the airport to wash her face again, while Rob laid on a bench looking green. He did not end up throwing up, thank goodness.
We got home at midnight, slept well, and everyone felt fine in the morning, except me, because all those drugs and all that alcohol finally kicked in so I slept all day. Then I couldn't sleep again during the night.
I can totally see how people become addicted to prescription drugs. Its so tempting!
Next, in stark contrast, I'll be telling you all about Colonial Williamsburg.
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