So this weekend we went to Canada again, to hang out on the beach for a few days with Jim's parents who are taking an (almost) two-week vacation at the cottage. His aunt was there too, a fun surprise, and it was a very relaxing trip except for, in no particular order:
-a baby whose top two teeth decided to start bulging from his gums about a nanosecond after we pulled out of the driveway, and who spent more or less the whole weekend wailing in misery with snot dripping from every orifice in his face.
-a big thunderstorm which killed the power the night of the yearly neighborhood luau (party hosts bravely soldiered on and it ended up actually being kind of fun, thanks to tiki torches and a battery powered ipod dock.)
-a line from the bridge at the border so incredibly long that we estimated, based on previous wait times, that we were going to be sitting there at least two hours. It was nearing dinnertime so we decided to pull out using the turnaround lane at the toll booth, head for Windsor, Ontario, and cross there instead. Except it turned out, after getting firmer directions from several fast food restaurant employees and gas station attendants, that Windsor was a TIDGE further away than we were thinking, so we ended up finding our way to some middle of nowhere, unpronounceable tribal reservation territory and crossing on this tiny, four vehicle FERRY instead, then finding our way back to Detroit where we FINALLY hooked back into our normal route home.
-storms both on the way there and back, the latter one so bad that at one point the car in front of us unexpectedly hit standing water under an overpass, lost control, and Jim had to blindly veer into the next lane to avoid hitting them, just as we ourselves had to go through the same water. I seriously have never felt so close to having a stroke as that moment- I had literally just looked up from my book (in which I had been buried, to distract myself from the stress of driving in the blinding rain) only to see all these cars ahead of us slamming on their breaks and/or hydroplaning, and us headed unavoidably into the same situation. My body tensed so hard before we hit the water that for the next half hour I was working the knots out of my back and shoulders.
-my getting food poisoning within twenty minutes of eating a highly suspect fast food burger. We drove around trying to find a bathroom, and when at last one was located, I left the baby with Jim and bolted from the van. But of course both kids decided they too needed to do Serious Business of their own, with which they also needed help (Eli's help including an OUTFIT CHANGE) all while I was still doubled over with stomach cramps. And naturally, a stranger needed to join us in my personal hell as well. This poor unsuspecting French Canadian woman walked into the McDonalds bathroom only to hear Eli wailing, "Someone come WIPE me!" as Addy held his door shut, snarling meanly, "You can't come out yet! Stay in there!" The woman asked in a worried (heavily accented) voice, "Can you let him out, dear? Are you children... alone in here?"
-finally, returning home to a lengthy note from my mom, who had watched the dog for us, detailing all the different places in the living room Fonz had had violent diarrhea which I am today waiting for the carpet cleaners to come extract from the rugs.
On the up side, I managed to finish Water for Elephants on the (lengthy) drive home!