For the love of Parenthood
There was a moment at the end of our spring break vacation, which was AMAZING, where I surveyed the scene around me with a mixture of revulsion, amusement, worry, frustration, and helplessness, but overall, calm. Rudi had just puked for the 4th time in about 100kms. He puked with such force that I didn't catch it with the bib he was wearing as a preventative measure; it went down his front and pooled in his crotch, soaking into the already-fouled carseat. Thankfully, we were on a straighter and wider stretch of highway than we had been for the previous 3 pukes, where pulling over immediately was impossible due to low visibility and the very real possibility of being hit while we tried to clean up our child and the car seat. Jake pulled over and we sprung into action as best we could. Bib off (spilled most of the puke it did catch) and out the door in the grass. Rudi unclipped and muscled out of the car without letting him come in for a snuggle, which he desperately wanted as