So.  This week, my little blog has seen more traffic than ever before.  Lots of you stopped by- from all over the world- to read my thoughts on the day we met Elizabeth.  And if any of you are still here, hey!  I have not. a. clue. how you guys landed here, but the more the merrier!

And while we have such a merry little party, let’s just go for it and follow up on my most-popular-to-date blog post with a post on none other than… well…

[You’ve been warned.  And I’m (sorta) sorry.  But I just gotta.  For posterity’s sake or something.]

So, let’s just start with the obvious- parenting is a trip.  And these kids of ours?  They keep me on my toes.  All the live long day.  I laugh a lot.  Sometimes, I cry.  Yesterday, however.  Now, yesterday was a laughing day.

It was 7:30 in the AM, and all were loaded up for morning carpool.  I don’t know a soul that looks forward to school carpool.  Parents, teachers, and other innocent stuck-in-carpool-traffic motorists all agree: it’s killer.  But carpool with other small people on board?  It’s a disaster waiting to happen.  Every single day.  And yesterday’s near miss was a little too close for comfort.

So, anyway.  7:30 in the morning.  Kids loaded up.  It’s rainy and cold, and I’m desperately trying to maintain an upbeat carpool experience.  Because it’s FRIDAY!  And don’t we all just love the rain!  This is the day the Lord has made, you people, so won’t you stop your whining and be flippin GLAD?

Halfway into our drive, I heard the dreaded words, “Uh, mommy, my tummy hurts.”  I’m a very responsible and empathetic mother, so I ignored the first complaint.  And maybe the second and third.  However, the volume steadily rose as we drove.  “My tummy HURTS.  I have to go potty NOW.  NOW!”  My empathy was growing as the pitch of her wails peaked, but what she didn’t know was that there was no way in heck we were stopping.  We were on the verge of late.  And late to school = dragging three unenthused kids outside in the rain.  Across the school’s puddle-filled campus.  To check my tardy kid in through the office.  Which we were SO not doing.  Priorities, people.

Alas, we made it through carpool, made a pitstop at a nearby park’s bathroom (EW. but necessary.) and got on our merry way.  Crisis averted!  VICTORY.

Until two minutes later when I hear, “Uh oh.  UH OH!  My tummy again!  I’m siiiick!  I’ve never been this sick in my whole liiiife!  I have to go now!”

Y’all, Carson’s school isn’t exactly located in a booming metropolis.  We drive through small town after small town to get there.  Small towns which do not boast many public restrooms.  Sorry, kid.

Distraction always seems to work when I’m in a pinch, so I instinctively turned to my favorite crutch of motherhood.  The car DVD player.  I plugged it in and was greeted by the sweet voices of Elsa and Anna.

“Frozen?!  I can’t watch Frozen,” she shrieked in disbelief.  “It makes me feel like I’m going to POOP SNOWFLAKES!”

Well, then.

We couldn’t have that, so off it went.  And down the gas pedal went as well.

After a few blessed moments of quiet, things started getting rowdy in the minivan again.  “Emergency!  I need an ambulance!  This is a REAL EMERGENCY, mom, and I need a REAL AMBULANCE!  Call 911 and get me an ambulance NOWWW!!”

Poor girl was teetering on the edge of crazy at this point, but her mother?  I had tears rolling down my cheeks as I desperately tried to stifle my laughter.  There were trees and cow pastures on either side of our car, and my somewhat-ballistic child had already firmly informed me that there was no way she would be relieving herself in the woods today.  No way, no how.  What can I say?  I raise ’em right.  So we kept on truckin.

“I can’t even breathe!  Get me a humidifier because I CAN’T BREATHE ANYMORE!” she continued.  Loudly.  Oh so loudly.

A humidifier, y’all.

I informed her that a humidifier wasn’t exactly going to help with her, uh, issues at this point.  A toilet would certainly help this little situation.  But a humidifier?  It was time for a pep talk.  “Mary Grace, you got this.  Only a few more minutes!  You GOT THIS!”

“Don’t tell me I got this!  I don’t got this!  I don’t got this!  I don’t got this!” she yelled back in a mostly crazed singsong voice.  She didn’t have it.  Apparently.

We were just miles from home when I heard it.  “Cheez-its!  Cheez-its! CHEEZ-ITS!”

“Baby,” I responded, “you’re sick.  You can’t have Cheez-Its right now.”

“Nooo!  Not Cheez-Its!  JESUS!  JEEEEESUS!  Jesus!!  Jesus help me!”

Oh, that.  Jesus.  Things were getting real.  And I’m pretty sure I’ve never driven so fast in my life.

Well, I’m SO THRILLED (I can’t even tell you how thrilled) to report that this story had a happy ending.  We made it.

Jesus heard.

The end.