I haven't been posting lately. But here is a little taste of what we've been doing:
Dec 21. Finish frantic packing. Attend kids' school pagent. Hop on airport bus. Terrible traffic. Arrive at Incheon 40 min before scheduled departure. Check-in agent doubts they can get the luggage in on time, tells us we need to be at the gate by 5:20 or we're screwed (in nicer language). Luckily no one in immigration and customs, though I get stopped as always for having many tiny metal objects in my carry-on (trains, cars, etc.). KC leaves first to pick up the stuff from pre-shopped duty free. Of course our gate is the farthest away. I hold Max, pull the suitcase, Aiden pulls his and we sprint through the airport (Aiden, I have to say, is a trooper and a born athlete) and arrive at the gate soaking with sweat and panting at 5:15. I hover around the entrance blocking them from closing the gate and KC sails in at 5:18.
On plane. Serving Singapore slings (Singapore Air: love that airline). Haven't really drunk in the last 6 years, am parched from running, didn't get to have dinner before boarding as in previous plan. Tastes pretty good. 10 minutes later am drunk.
Dec 21 (U.S. time now) arrive in SFO. Due to rental car gaffe am upgraded to an Infiniti with bluetooth and GPS device. We like it. We'll take it.
Dec 22. Eat excellent Cuban food in San Jose. Declare "this is now one of my favorite restaurants!" Begin what appears to be several weeks of gluttony. Eat and enjoy to fullest extent.
That night: 10pm - 4am. Discover that after 3 years of Korean food, stomach is not able to handle other delicacies. Spend 6 hours vomiting. Did not know that it is possible to vomit that much and still be able to walk around. Did not realize how much food I had consumed. Was given opportunity to relive the night's meal over and over again. Max keeps waking up and searching the house for me, calling "Mommy where are you?" Vocal chords stopped functioning after the first hour of puking so can't respond. KC wakes up periodically and reigns him in. Our friends (whose bedroom is next to the bathroom) will never let us stay with them again.
4am scheduled departure for drive down to LA and San Diego. Am still clinging to the toilet and covered in sweat, mumbling "Please god make it stop"
7am After shower manage to regroup and hit the road.
9am Aiden throws up all over himself and car seat. We pull over by a farm in Gilroy, smell of garlic mixing with vomit. We thank the stars for wet wipes. Cover the car seat in plastic (impossible to scrub all the fabric now, can't detach it) and continue.
11am? More puking. me again. Bag leaks and our poor Infiniti is baptised yet again.
Time has no meaning. Aiden again. We decide to skip LA and head straight to San Diego.
3:30pm. Arrive in San Diego. Collapse greatfully into bed. KC hoses down the car seat.
next day or so... rest. Start feeling human. Dare to engage in a tete-a-tete with some food. Spend another sleepless night with my new intimate friend, Percy the Porcelin Convenience.
Skip to the 27th. Drive 12 hours from SD with a stop in LA to SF. Make it to within 20 minutes of our destination and Max lets loose with his share of puke. Too much, in fact, for us to clean up, so we opt to speed to my cousin's house, showing up at the doorstep demanding towels, running water, and disinfectant. His care seat gets thoroughly sanitized.
Today. Finally made it through a day with no gastrointestinal difficulty. We are leaving California, the state of Puke, and heading for Washington, D.C. -- a new time zone and a new chance at gluttony? Or at least putting some color into my cheeks again? Getting something out of the trunk of the rental car I pull a back muscle.
Somehow we make it through the flight, through getting steadily demeaned at every turn in the airport (when did Americans become so rude? And why do TSA agents feel the need to make everyone feel stupid and small?) Am now settled into my mom's place, coked up on expired Advil and immobile for the time being. Good time to update my blog, right?
Happy Holidays everyone!