I get carsick. As in, if I look at something so much as a menu while riding in a car, I’ll have to spend the rest of the trip with my head pressed against the glass trying not to throw up. Knowing this, why on earth did I not prepare for the fact that my children would most likely be that way? Particularly on a long, five-hour drive through southern Missouri and northern Arkansas.
About two hours before reaching our destination, Dan and I started wondering if Jasper was prone to car sickness, when he looked a bit green and hadn’t said much over the drive. About one hour before reaching our destination, we were in the parking lot of a Dollar General with a naked crying toddler, puke-sodden clothes and carseat on the pavement, and Woody hanging out to dry (although poor Woody was a casualty – he was far from salvageable…).
It. Was. Awful. Thank goodness I had Dan with me, because I have no idea what I would have done if I were alone (half the time I take the trip to Grandma’s house, it’s just me and a child).
Lessons learned: have an emergency kit for cleaning up kid puke packed in the car, and don’t feed a toddler french fries and ice cream before going on curvy one-lane roads. Gross.
The Puke Kit Contains:
- Paper Towels
- Baby Wipes
- Disinfectant wipes
- Trash Bags
- Change of Clothes
- Change of Diaper