Yesterday we had freakishly warm temperatures, for January - 65 degrees! I decided to leave the kid at school a little bit longer than usual and go for a rare afternoon run. It was a pretty great 5 miles, minus the 20MPH winds. Sustained. Coming down one long stretch of flat road, it felt like I was moving my legs and going absolutely nowhere.
The storms rolled in around 10:00 last night, wind and torrential downpour - and then the thunder started around midnight, and Charlie was up for good. I decided to let him sleep in my room, since it was clear that neither one of us was going to get any sleep.
6 and a half restless hours later, we were all packed up in the car ready to head out to school and work. I had even made it out of the house early enough to get gas AND Dunkin - all I could think about was an iced caramel latte and a chocolate cream filled donut.
I turned the key in the ignition, released the parking brake, and shifted into reverse. The rear wheels had just bumped over the edge of the garage floor, when Charlie threw up all over himself. It was everywhere - inside his coat, down his front, covering his lap - so back inside we went. I tried not to gag as I peeled his puke-covered clothes off and threw them in the washer. I wiped down the car seat straps, but they're going to need a better cleaning. I HATE puke. It's my least favorite thing.
Long days at home like today make me regret cancelling cable. There's only so much I can tolerate on Netflix. I think this afternoon calls for a Muppet movie!