Last weekend we headed out to Las Vegas to run the Rock and Roll Half Marathon there. In many ways, it was one of those Murphy’s Law trips.
It started out on Friday afternoon when we picked Kai up from day care. Her classroom smelled horrible, bad enough that we asked what was going on. It was because of Kai. She had thrown up a few minutes earlier. We didn’t think much of it, sometimes babies seem to eject their food at random.
We began our drive to Louisville to the airport. At some point we noticed a smell, commented on it, and moved on. I guess that our noses adjusted. It did not even occur to me that it might be Kai, so I was quite surprised when I opened the back door of the car to retrieve her from her car seat and found her covered in vomit. Head to toe, a thick coating, all over the car seat as well, you know, the one that we were about to pack to bring with us.
A massive, but swift, cleaning operation ensued. Many of you know that we are not exactly known for getting to the airport early. At some point, as we used Chris’ undershirt to scoop piles of vomit out of the car seat, we debated if we should just cancel the trip, but decided that we couldn’t cancel. Last time we were supposed to meet Chris’ parents in Nevada we cancelled because that was the day we found out that I had a giant tumor in my chest. Nope. We would not cancel. We would press on this time.
By the time we had cleaned and bagged as much pukey stuff as possible, we were under the gun to get through the airport fast.
First stop, the ticket counter. We had mobile boarding passes automatically delivered our phones, but Kai’s needed to be printed. Let’s just say that it wasn’t as straightforward as usual.
Ten minutes later, we were booking it through security. Except only Chris and Kai booked through. I drew the lucky number and needed to be strip searched. Not really, but it was the most time consuming and invasive pat down that I have ever received and, in India, I received quite a few airport pat downs. I consider myself an expert in the subject.
Finally we were on our way to the gate, just in time to hear the agent paging us to board our flight. Like literally us. ‘Passengers Brittany and Chris, bound for Houston, your plane is ready to depart. The airplane doors will be closing in five minutes.’
We made it. Whew!
When we finally got up in the air, it was a few minutes past Kai’s bedtime and she was clearly expressing that she wanted milk. Now. As soon as we were cleared to move about the cabin, Chris went on a mission to ask the flight attendant for some milk. For some reason this made her very angry. We were in the front row of the plane, so I could hear the exchange well, but I have no idea what went wrong. After the milk incident she refused to speak to us, make eye contact with us, or even give us water. All the way to Houston. Thankfully Kai did not have another milk meltdown.
We eventually made it on to Las Vegas without incident, although, while in Houston Chris mentioned that he had an upset stomach.
By morning, Chris wasn’t alone. Our morning started off with bringing Kai into our bed to try to trick her into just one more hour of sleep. That came back and bit us when she almost immediately threw up all over herself, us, and the bed. By the time I got her bathed, changed into clean clothes, and had washed the contents of the puke bag from the night before, I realized that I didn’t feel so well either.
Long story short, I spent most of the day feeling like Kai must have felt and feeling pretty guilty that we had dragged her halfway across the country. By dinner time, Chris was on my case to go pick up our race packets for the following day. I reluctantly went, armed with a plastic bag in my purse.
Things seemed to be going better until the next day as we were leaving for the race. The wind was beginning to pick up. By the time we started, there were sustained 20 mph winds and we seemed to be running straight into them. Ugh. It was like running in place. Fortunately, I had no idea how slow we were running because my Garmin stopped working properly during mile 1.
Poor race performance aside, I have mixed feelings about the race. It was pretty awesome to run down the iconic Las Vegas Strip all lit up at night. In some ways, that was enough to make it a pretty cool race, but some of the other circumstances negated that, at least in part. Possibly due to the wind, there were no visible mile marker signs, no clocks on the course, and no signs at the water stations marking water versus Gatorade. There was also too little regulation on who got into which corral resulting in many walkers at the front of the pack. In summary, I’m glad that I ran the race, but I probably wouldn’t run this race again.
Naturally, this trip could not end without just a little bit more drama. When we landed in Louisville again, just a few minutes late, we booked it back out of the airport knowing that it would take every minute that we had to make it to the kennel before it closed to pick up Duke.
About halfway home, the gas light came on in my car. Seriously? We debated if we should keep driving to our exit off of the interstate or stop for gas sooner but not be able to pick up Duke. As you might expect, we pressed on. Fortunately we made it to our exit and a gas station with about half a gallon of gas in the tank. I dropped Chris off downtown at the Jeep to go get Duke and headed home with Kai.
Or not. On the way home I noticed that a certain smell was emanating from the backseat. This one was coming from Kai’s diaper. At least we were almost home, the best possible place to deal with that.
When we got home, we burst through the door at full speed with the intent to make a beeline for the changing table as soon as I disarmed the alarm. Unfortunately, the keypad on the alarm seemed to be jammed up. The keys usually beep when I press them, but they were not making any sounds and the alarm was not disarming. In sixty seconds, the alarm would sound.
Quickly, I rushed back outside to the car to strap a poopy, screaming baby back into her car seat as the ear splitting sound of the alarm came to life inside our house. Instantly, my phone was ringing with the alarm company checking on me. I assured them that we did not need any emergency services, but also that I would not, in fact, be able to disarm the system.
They instructed me to sit tight for 7-10 minutes until the audible siren turned off, then they could talk me through disarming the system manually. Did I mention that it was very cold, rainy, and windy outside? Changing Kai’s diaper outside during this episode was not an especially appealing option.
Eventually, we got into the house, got Kai cleaned up, and returned to normalcy. Usually, I feel some type of post-trip let down, but, by this point, was surprisingly eager to return to work and my regularly scheduled routine.