Bouncing Back

After our yard sale a few weeks ago, we decided to use some of our proceeds to get my oldest daughter the new carseat she had been needing for several months. "1" had outgrown her baby seat and was ready for the next step up which unfortunately for her, "3" was still inhabiting. So after the yard sale we purchased a new youth booster seat for "3" and gave "1" her hand-me-down carseat. Worked out well for both girls. "3" was really proud of her new ride. The first time she "test drove" her new seat, it was nighttime. "Mommy! It's WONDERFUL!" she exclaimed. "It's SO pretty!" This was the commentary of a child who was discovering for the first time all the street lights, traffic signals, and buildings lighting the darkness from the new perspective of her mobile world; having been previously unable to see out the side windows of our car. Today however, my husband and I made an unfortunate discovery. Somewhere in all the excitement of the new carseat and extended view, we had forgotten some vital information. As children, both my husband and I suffered the malady of motion-sickness. To be more specific...car-sickness. This thought never crossed either of our minds until we were on our way to my husband's doctor's appointment in a town about an hour from home. We started our journey alone..just the two of us this morning, as my mother had come to babysit. Alas, "3" chose today to have a separation anxiety attack and so we opted to allow her to accompany us while "1" stayed home and entertained her Nana. Up until now, "3" had only been in the car for short distance rides: to the grocery store...to Nana's...downtown...etc. Once again, this never crossed our minds UNTIL...we were about 10 minutes from the doctor's office. The ride had not been a smooth one. We traveled at greater speeds than usual, for longer distances than usual, around more curves and turns than usual, with apparently more ignorant drivers than usual. (We were cut off and nearly run off the road twice). All of the occurrences in combination obviously did not sit well on "3's" stomach. With no warning, 3's latest snack of chocolate milk and teddy grahams came back with a vengeance spraying the back of my seat, covering her clothes, and saturating a completely horrified stuffed "Nemo" fish. I flashed my ass to the downtown metro world as I dove head-first over the front seats in an effort to catch the geyser in the ever-ready Walmart sack I found floating around the floorboard. It was over as soon as it had begun and with the imperturbable attitude of a small child, "3" announces in a calm voice... "My tummy feels better now." I wish she had hinted to me that it didn't feel well in the first place. Oh well. Live and learn.