The Agony and The Ecstasy

So for the past few weeks I have been talking about going to the Renegade Craft Fair in Buck Town. As the weekend drew nearer I kept trying to psych Tim up for this adventure. I love him, but he still thinks that he will be shot or his car will get stolen if he travels into the great city of Chicago. Also the whole "craft fair" thing really isn't his thing, he also has a bit of a phobia of people with a lot of tattoos and art, but because he loves me he was willing to go.
So we start our Sunday morning as we usually do, Tim and Abby go to the bakery for donuts while Eleanor and I snuggle and get the paper (doesn't that sound divine). We eat our donuts, (a strawberry for Abby, cream filled for Tim, plain for the baby and I) and read the paper. The baby goes down for her nap, we frolic a bit and start to get ready so we can leave when the babe gets up. Everything is going along swimmingly. We all pile into Tim's car (El Diablo, his pride and joy) and off we go into the city.
As we are driving I decide I just can't take it any more and tell Abby that I am turning off Kids Stuff (damn you Sirius 116) and I replace it with her "favorite" Gnarles Barkley. Things were quiet in the back seat so I turn and look to see the face of an unhappy 3 year old. I ask if she wanted (fucking) Kids Stuff back on (really, a station devoted to annoying kids music, did you have to Sirius?) to which she grumbled something inaudible and I just turned it on. We are getting closer to our exit, passing Addison, Fullerton, I am getting more and more excited to buy cool things and get my ladies interested in what goes on in the city. We hit the North Ave exit, Tim starts to get antsy about the homeless man at the end of the off ramp, and Abby starts whining and crying, I turn around, she is the awful shade of yellowy green and is begging for water. Then all of a sudden her strawberry donut and sippy cup of milk makes a reappearance down the front of her shirt, onto her car seat onto Tim's back seat. All that was missing was the head spinning and we had Linda Blair in the back seat of El Diablo.
In the 45 seconds it took to pull into the gas station on the corner Abby's pallor improved and the mess of "ralph" oozed into every crack and crevice of the back seat. Tim and I hit the panic button and I took over getting her out of the car and getting her vomit-y clothes off. Yes, I am the mom who had her 3 year old girl stripped down to her Barbie undies at the BP Station on the corner of North Ave and Wood St. I tried to get her to kind of hide behind the door, but she wanted no part of that as there was so much to see at this particular gas station (the guys selling the "velvet art" were beyond fascination). We got things cleaned up as best we could with baby wipes and a brown paper bag, and headed back home with the windows down (note to parents, don't let them eat the strawberry donut, it does not smell as good the second time around).
Now here is the thing about when your child pukes, there is no little fairy that is going to clean it up. It is your responsibility to get elbow deep in whatever it is that they have eaten. It is your responsibility to not add more vomit to the pile. It is also your responsibility to calm and soothe your kid after what is kind of a traumatic event. Do the joys of parenting ever end?
The only one in the car who wasn't bummed about all this was Abby because after listening to us call Nora "Ralph" for months due to her unfortunate spitting up issues, she was "Ralph" that day. And once she exorcised the demon of the strawberry donut, she was beyond fine. Tim was a mildly perturbed about his car (ok, that is an understatement, but he handled it well for the children) and I was sad that I was going to miss the last day of a once a year cool fest that I had finally talked my family into going to.
So we get home I feed Nora lunch and try not to pout too much as Tim shampoos, scrubs, and buffs stomach acid and curdled milk out of his interior. At one point he had the entire backseat out of his car, that was when I walked away. I tried to keep Abby quiet, but she was not having it. We put Nora down for a nap and settled in to play yet another game of Candy Land. Abby had no sooner finished her visit with Mr. Mint that Tim came down stairs, gave me a bunch of cash and my car keys and said, "You need a break, go to your thing down town and bring back dinner".
What?! Where is my husband and what have you done with him?
Not being a fool I was out the door so fast their heads were spinning. I made it down there with little trouble, retracing my steps from earlier, only this time I was, ALONE. Truly, completely, unadulterated aloneness is something that I don't even get in the shower. I hit the RCF with a vengeance. I grabbed all the little trinkets I wanted and still got home in time for dinner.
While I was out my Tony called and asked me if I wanted to see a movie last night. Feeling a bit guilty about abandoning Tim for the afternoon, I was almost reluctant, but not really. So not only did I get to go on an alone outing I also got to see a movie in current release in an actual theater. (I know you are dying of jealousy right, I got to have almost 6 whole hours of aldutness that didn't involve my kids).
Now I know that I complain about my husband A LOT, and for the most part he is kind of (really) a pain, but he has been a hero lately. From taking on his mom last week (another blog entirely), to encouraging me to go be me for a few hours without any prompting on my part and then letting me go an a date with his best friend, he has been who I need him to be lately. He'll do anything to stay out of couples therapy.