Thursday, January 17, 2013

Merry Christmas: Part Deux

On the 27th of December our holiday trek 2012  continued... we woke up bright and early to head from Cincinnati to Columbus to catch a 10am flight to Omaha.  The flight went as planned and Ian was a pretty good boy on the plane. The only hiccup with this leg of the travel was that between all the time changes (hitting 3 different time zones between Denver, Cincy, and Omaha) I had the time an hour off for my mom to pick us up; so she was there an hour early circling the airport and freaking out that something bad had happened to our plane in the air. Whoops.

Anyway, we made it safe and sound and all in one piece. I am actually surprised we made it in the door before my mom suggested opening presents. Anyone who knows my mom knows that she gets so excited about gift giving she cannot usually wait until Christmas to open presents, and here we were 2 full days after Christmas. That being said, my sister had arrived there on Christmas day and they did open gifts with her prior to our arrival, so she had somewhat of a fix.

Don't worry it wasn't long after we got settled in the house that she started with "So, do you want to open a present?" Ian ended up falling asleep in my dad's arms midway through gift opening, so Dede came to the rescue and opened the rest of his presents. A good lesson for first time parents, do not... I repeat  DO NOT go overboard with lots of gifts for your baby, they do not care if you give them a box or heck even just a bow and some wrapping paper off someone else's gift. Save your money for another year.


uhhh...alright, let's do this present opening!

Loves cars!
Not so sure about this...


Back to our time in the big O...the rest of our trip was pretty much just lots of relaxing, hanging out, football watching, wedding planning, and eating/cooking good food...



Dede and her boy
All Ian really wanted for Christmas was his own iPad


All was good, right up until the day before we were supposed to leave. That's when hell broke loose. Ian got sick in the middle of the night with a terrible cold and was burning with a fever. I finally moved him from his pack-and-play into our bed because he just kept crying, which is so untypical so I knew he felt awful. Needless to say, we barely slept a wink. The entire next day we were exhausted and he wouldn't let us put him down. He was so pathetic and miserable.... he would cry with his low and sad eyes and then bury his head into my chest and yelp a little. He'd cough and cough and then whimper because of the pain from coughing. He wouldn't eat anything or take much of his bottle.  Babies are so helpless and sad when they are sick. And the worst part is they really can't take anything. Any normal adult with these symptoms would be loading up on cough meds, putting Vicks on their chest, and OD'ing on Mucinex, but all a baby can take is infant Tylenol. What is that going to do? I mean really... 

So poor little buddy was a complete mess. He pretty much slept in my arms the whole day and wouldn't let me put him down for a second. I felt so bad for him. At this point, we were getting nervous that we were supposed to get on a plane and leave to go home in the morning. So, John suggested we just rent a car and drive back so that we wouldn't subject him to the airport (germ heaven) not to mention he would have been a crying mess on the plane (F- for sure), and  I can't imagine the number it would do on his ears. Brilliant idea! Done! No plane for this baby.

The next day Ian seemed a little better, but we stuck to the plan and got a rental. This go around we got a lovely black SUV, and Ian and mama slept in the backseat together as dad drove us home. About mid-way through the 8 hour trip home we stopped for gas. When John got out to get the gas I woke up and grabbed the baby along with $5 cash to get a coffee, and ran inside to pee real quickly. Once I did my business, and got my hot drink, I headed back out to the car. 


You can imagine my shock when I got out there and the car was gone. My first thought was that John must have run across the street to the McDonalds to get food or something. I thought it was a little strange because my mom had packed us all these sandwiches for the road, but whatever maybe he decided he wanted a burger & fries instead. So I waited in the vestibule of the gas station truck stop in BFE Nebraska pacing back and forth with my sick baby on my hip. After 5 minutes or so I started to wonder if maybe John had pulled the car to the other side of the truck stop and I couldn't see him waiting there. So I walked outside and did a loop around the entire place. 


Hum, still no car. No John. WTF. 


I came back in and sat at this little table in the truck stop, and the owner came over to check on me....I must have had a distressed look on my face. 


Truck stop owner: Miss, is everything alright?

Me: Well, um no... I don't know what happened to my husband. He must have gone to get food. Is there somewhere other than the McDonalds across the street close by?
Owner: No Miss, just the McDonalds. Do you want a free cookie while you wait? 
(tempting, but my nerves weren't making that cookie very appealing)

Fast forward another 10 minutes. I've paced back and forth to the point that other patrons are taking notice. One woman came up and asked me what the car looks like... what is the license plate number... etc. As though I was going to know the plate number of a rental. Then when she could tell it wasn't helping she suggested I called him....


Me: Well, I would but I left my purse with my phone in it in the car. I was thinking I was just running in really quickly so I didn't bring it in.

Lady: Well, you are welcome to use my cell phone to call. 
Me: Oh that's sweet, but I actually don't know his number by heart. 

I know, I know. How in the hell do you not know your husband's number? I don't, it's just that simple. Lesson learned. The only numbers I know by heart are my parents number in Cincinnati from my childhood house (which isn't even valid at this point and hasn't been their number since they moved 2 years ago), and my dad's cell phone number. Honestly, the only reason I know my dad's is because it's been the same for like 10 years and whenever he leaves a message he never says his name or anything he just blurts out his number and generally repeats it like 3x. Needless to say, it's been a running joke in our family. 


So I decided to ask the truck stop owner if I could use their phone to call my dad.  He graciously handed the phone over despite me telling him it would be a long distance call. People are so nice in the sticks. 


{ring, ring}

Dad: Hello?
Me: Dad, hey, it's Sarah
Dad: Sar, where are you calling from?
Me: Well, um, I'm not really sure... a truckstop on the way back to Denver. 
Dad: Huh. Okay, what's up? 
Me: Can you tell me John's number? I need it and don't have it on me. 
Dad: What do you need his number for? Isn't he with you? 
Me: Well, he was. But we stopped to get gas, and I got out with the baby to go to the bathroom and came out and he's gone. He probably just went to get food or something, but I can't find him {insert me trying to come up with something so it does not look like his daughter and grandson were not just ditched in BFE} 
Dad: Oh. Hum...well... {insert him thinking what in the Sam Hell?!?!} yeah, hang on a second let me look it up. 

Thank God! I got his number and promised to call my dad back when we found John. I'm sure he thought this was just the craziest thing ever.


{ring, ring}

>> goes to John's voice mail. 


{ring, ring}
>> goes to John's voice mail. 

Third time's a charm....


{ring, ring}
John: Hello? 
Me: JOHN!??! Where in the hell are you? I'm freaking out. 
John: I'm coming back.
Me: Coming back???....What do you mean? Where did you go? 
John: Well, I left. I thought you were in the car. 
Me: In the car... what do you mean? You've been gone for 30 minutes!!!! 
John: Yeah, the exits are really far apart in the middle of nowhere and it took me an exit to realize that you weren't just sleeping in the back when I asked you to hand me my sandwich. 
Me: {CLICK}

So yes my friends, I was abandoned with my sick baby at a truck stop in the middle of nowhere Nebraska. That is how I ended my holiday. 


Merry Friggin' Christmas and a Happy New Year.

4 comments:

  1. That was just about the best laugh out loud story I have ever heard. This is SOOOOO something Mark would do. Glad it only took him an exit to realize. PS I too do not have Mark's number memorized, practicing it now...

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  2. I am impressed that John lived to tell the story...not sure Rob would be so lucky!

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  3. Believe me... I have learned two things from this... first, know all emergency numbers, and second I am a wonderfully understanding wife who always has a "get out of jail free" card to use at my discretion.

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  4. OMG that is ridiculous! I love that John did this! Not that he did it to you- but trust me, the years of laughs and mileage you are going to get out of this is worth it!

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