5.Versluys'.us

What started off as a necessary yet not unpleasant drive to bring our new Yukon home became the trip I would never have taken if I had known what would happen.

We headed out of Colorado with a Royal Kitchen, princess dresses, ornaments, and duffels of dirty laundry stacked in the cargo space.

The big girls took some time to wind down from the excitement of New Year’s Day, but they eventually drifted off to sleep after watching a movie. By the time of this post, I had already spent a couple hours hopping from the front seat to the back, calming jumpy sleepers and stuffing pillows in crevices for heads to lean upon. I thought it was frustrating and tiring, but I figured they would calm down for at least a few hours once deep sleep settled in.

Boy, was I ever wrong.

Around 4:30 a.m., I was driving and Eric was in the back trying to calm Quincy down. She had woken up crying, and we assumed it was just the uncomfortable sleep posture. Until she started throwing up.

I will spare you the details of our multiple stops to clean up Quincy’s multiple “incidents” in at a gas station in 8 degree weather, on the side of the freeway, and in the middle of a traffic jam outside Vegas. Suffice it to say that our 15 hour trip turned into 21 hours between the sickie and the other two who had it up to ^here with the long hours buckled into their car seats.

Quincy was suitably embarrassed by her lack of clean clothing when we stopped at a Nevada Walmart to get Febreze and a bucket.

The last few hours of our trip through the desert to our mountains, between Quincy’s last hurrah and Nora’s attempt to show her sister up with a mess of her own, was about as jumbled as the pictures Roma took on my phone.

Eric drove for the last third of the trip, while I did damage control from pretty much every seat in turn.

I didn’t spend much time in the passenger seat.

That would be a green Quincy, with her mouth temporarily closed, and an antsy Nora being pacified by Mama’s dramatic reading from The Economist.

Were we ever glad to get home.

Mama unpacked the Royal Kitchen to the sounds of Papa losing his lunch, and the next day Roma spent a couple hours playing with the blender and toaster before spewing her dinner all over Papa’s shirt.

Quincy had been sick in Colorado on the day before we left; we believe she caught it from Annette’s boyfriend Marty who was sick the day we arrived. Nora had a rough 24 hour period soon after Marty recovered, and I’m 99% sure she was the first Versluys victim of the bug. Quincy was next, and her reaction was probably exacerbated by the long car ride. Eric is feeling better today, and went into work, although he is definitely not back to 100%. Roma is a lot like her Mama – sickness doesn’t easily cramp our style. Unless you’re hanging over the toilet bowl, life goes on. In her case, there are still princess dresses to be worn, train tracks to spread across the living room, and lunch to eat.

4 down, one to go. But until (unless) this thing takes me by force, I’m going to get this house back to order. The dead tree and boxed ornaments are on the porch, the gingerbread house is smashed, and the washing machine is going full tilt.

I guess I’m one more post away from telling you about our Christmas, so bear with me and I’ll get to it eventually.

Perhaps after Quincy starts feeling better.