Drag Me To Hell

So the trip to Ohio has come and gone. Although I would actually admit that overall it went smoother than last year, somehow it still managed to seem more awful. Probably the whole pregnancy aspect of it all.

G was surprised to see us (we hadn't told her we were coming) after the five minutes it took for her to process who we were and why we were in her house. She couldn't seem to tell ANYONE apart from one another-she routinely confused Kelly, Mom and I and the three girls due to her poor eyesight. But somehow she managed to see well enough to punch me in the stomach (thanks, G).

She seemed to be in good spirits. We took her to lunch at the oh-so-elegant-Olive-Garden where Kelly tantalized me with a delicious-looking tropical sangria. (This is after a dinner where Kelly tantalized me with a delicious looking Pineapple Martini (pineapples marinated in vodka, a most excellent idea) and the next day with a swell-looking Bass. ) We tried to converse with her at her house but her without a hearing aid and us without heavy metal concert-quality loudspeakers made it quite difficult. That and the children had decided that they did not like the way she had arranged things in her house and they wanted to do something about it.

Traveling with three small children is just tiring. While they were pretty good overall, late nights, cramped quarters, and just the issue of being children made it an exhausting trip. And convinced me that two kids might just be a horrible, horrible idea.

But hopefully Twoie will actually like me. I had known for some time now that my niece Calliope was not fond of me. She glares at me whenever I am around her. Or she scrunches up her nose and turns away. But this trip I found out that she actually HATES me. For one, she can't quite pronounce my name. This is pretty common for an almost-two-year-old of course. But while my mom gets a nickname like "Baba" and Maddy got "Dida," I ended up with "Wee-wee." Which my mother finds ABSOLUTELY HILARIOUS. She thought it necessary to link Clio's nickname for me with my current uncontrollable fascination with bathroom stops. For which I am currently looking for a blacklist of those really bad nursing homes where they abuse residents.

But the worst is that Clio will not trust me with her stuff. Mom and Kelly are sitting up front and I'm sitting next to Clio in the middle row. Clio wants a pacifier. I reach down to get it and hand it to her. Clio throws a fit and will not take it. Kelly (who is driving) reaches down and passes it to Clio. Clio takes it happily. Clio wants to hand something to Kelly. I offer to pass it for her. Clio cries and snatches it away. Kelly reaches her hand out. Clio struggles to reach her but passes her the object.

But the worst incident was towards the end, after Kelly had been sitting next to Clio for a while. We traded places and Clio takes one look at me, starts crying and wails "Wee-wee! Sit!" I feel like I have killed her puppy.

On this trip, I also ate way too much junk food. I used this voyage as an opportunity to act on some of the cravings I had been having and consumed fried chicken, a bowl of sausage gravy, muffins, mashed potatoes, bagels, biscuits, a multitude of lollipops, cookie ice cream sandwiches, a Blizzard and, most importantly, five White Castles. I went for days without fruit (unless you count the lollipops and the half-banana in the Blizzard). Needless to say, today I have been restricting myself to foods that can actually be found in nature without the interference of mankind. Chocolate chip cookies can be found in the wild, yes?

This may also explain why this past weekend was probably the last weekend I can get away without maternity clothes. This is possibly what I have been dreading the most (besides the absence of alcohol). I despise clothes shopping, especially when I will have to buy pieces that I can only wear for 7 months. Despite searching for stuff on Freecycle and Craigslist, I have yet to find cheap clothes so it looks like I am going to have to part with money (sigh) and buy myself some clothes.

Unfortunately, I can't really see myself making this trip again next year. This was my third year in a row, so one can't say I haven't tried. Its just that the idea of traveling with FOUR small children fills me with more dread than is humanly possible. Especially if one of those children is MY 6 month old baby (meaning I can't pass it off to someone else to take care of). So I don't know what I am going to do. Mom and Kelly are already guilting me and I am enough of a pushover that I will probably go along with it. Maybe if I get one of those roof storage things...babies like the wind in their hair, right?