Thanksgiving.

You know, some years you skate by these holidays without event... and then some years...

We had planned on convening at my sister's house but that plan got scotched when my Grandmother had a bad fall and had to be hospitalized a few days before. I suppose we could have just stayed home but it seemed unthinkable. We wanted to be together (my sister will be in that hurricane state for Christmas this year. No, not that one, the other one. Right. The long one that gets all the aid.) so we piled kids in car at the last minute, got days off and just went.

My Grandmother was brought home from the hospital the day before Thanksgiving. Nothing broken apparently but at nearly 90 a fall takes a long time to recover from. We made the 6 hour trip, stopping along the way for food and to amuse the kids at a little park in Cabrillo on the slides, and everyone was in good spirits. Grandma seemed to be OK, my mom was there supporting my grandparents and we all wanted to support her. When we arrived at the hotel where my sister and her family were already in the suite, we called to see if we should push on to the GPs (Grandparents) or not. Nope, says my mother, go feed yourselves and then call later.

There's nothing like searching for food in a strange city. One always ends up chosing a know evil. Our choice: Hometown Buffet. I know what you're thinking! But how can you beat feeding a toddler for $1.95! And we've got a littler one (Significant Other version 2) who eats alot! It is always good on the way down but once it gets there all bets are off. Back in the hotel, everyone still in good moods if a bit loagie from too much mac and cheese and frozen yougurty-ice creamy substance with sprinkles we call Mom, who says, "Come on over. Grandma is waiting for you".

My sister drives pretty fast so here Significant Other was, in the dark on strange roads he hadn't travelled in years, trying to keep up with my saying, "Slow down. I know how to get there!" The second he whips round the corner to park in the driveway, SOv.2 throws up. I mean tons. I thought at first it was just the Hometown Buffet punishing her. Its all over her car seat. All over her and of course I have nothing but a baby blanket to wipe it all up. She's crying, SO runs into the house to get towels and bags for the clothes. I manage to clean her up, change her and make a decent, if smelly, greeting to Grandma who is bedridden.

So, poor little sweet gal, SOv.2, pukes all night long. Which means of course that I am up and awake all night. I send SO out into the foggy wilds of Santa Maria in a questionable part of town at 3 in the morning for Pedialite, which she won't drink and when she does, pukes back up. You know, there is a real problem with Pedialite that I think the manufacturers should consider: KIDS WON'T DRINK IT! In the morning I think she's finally done but just as I am getting in the shower I see my sister whip past me with a towel. Poor gal. Twelve hours of puking. That's too much for an 18 month old to take! But she handled it with her normal good grace.

Thanksgiving day went fine. I shared cooking with brother-in-law and my mom. Everyone ate, including SOv.2 who by that time was feeling better. Except me. My stomach was dodgey all day and I felt sure I was to follow in SOv.2's footsteps at any moment. But no.

Then it came time to spread the ashes. My Uncle died in October and was cremated. We had not yet planned what to do with them though my Grandma felt sure he'd want to be spread in Avila Bay. So, since we were all there, including my other Uncle, we all piled in cars, sans GPs of course and went off to Avila Bay. It was not as emotional as I had expected given but that my Uncle passed away a month earlier I presume we had all done our own seperate grieving already and collectively were only to share the acceptance portion. It was almost solemn and I'd like to say it was quiet but SOv.2 cried the entire time!

The rest of the night I thought SO and SOv.1 had dodged the bullet. They played and were happy but then on Friday we set out for home. Passing Santa Barbara we decided to stop at the beach to play a bit. Six hours in a car is kinda cruel for a toddler so you have to give them something to look forward to and back at to make the time pass more smoothly. But I should have known something was up when SOv.1 said when we stopped for a snack "Cheese icky". He's never made such a ridiculous statement in his life being that he is a great lover of cheese. So, sure enough as soon as nightfall both SO and I got the sense and I looked back and sure enough, it was his turn. I mean, being sick is bad enough but being sick while travelling is insulting.

Saturday rolls around, SOv.1 is past his 12 hours of puking and he and his sister are both firmly ensconced in sick the other end. I am feeling none too well but time does not stop for mommy, oh no! SO had to go to work so I saw to the puky clothes and car seats - which had to be dismantled, washed, sprayed, Febreezed and reassembled. There should be an award for every mother who has to do that job. I am thinking, "Cool, tailend, all on the mend" when I see SO lomping down the walkway and hour early home from work. Uh oh. No sooner than he is out of his work clothes but he's in the bathroom. At least that was his sole trip. The small benefit of years of illnesses.

I seem to have dodged the puke bullet and the backend bullet this time but I always end up sicker longer than everyone else because of it. It all has to converge somewhere those pesky germs and usually they end up in my sinuses, making my jaw throb and using up at least one full tree's worth of Kleenex.

We hope for an uneventful Christmas.