Don't Make Me Turn This Car Around.....................

If you were ever a child then chances are you probably had at least one family road trip. If you weren't ever a child then please say hello to the mother ship for me and I hope you've come in peace.

Growing up with a mother from Virginia who had a twin in California we spent many summers on the road to visit her side of the family.

Adventures were to be had on every trip and the memories made were of course priceless. I will say that I am very lucky to have been able to have so many adventures as a kid. Mom and dad certainly did their best to take us kids to some really amazing places along the way that without them I would not even realize existed.

This post however is not about those adventures. This is about the time between the destinations..... the car...........

Family car trips generally started the same each time. Mom would wake us all up at the crack of 3 AM and we would all trudge to the car fully dressed because none of us bothered to put on pjs knowing what was coming the next day. In tow we would also have our pillows and blankets and something to entertain ourselves. That something was generally a toy or book and by day two in the car it was used mainly to hit other siblings with. I preferred books myself as they caused more damage to the other siblings.

Now six children attempting to sleep in the back of a Dodge Caravan required a Tetris like skill by mom to determine who sat where and how we slept. Our baby sister Danielle was only a small child so she sat on moms lap when she was awake and when she needed to sleep she slept on a tiny cradle mattress by the sliding door in the car. Safety first! I don't think we even had a car seat in the car with her on trips.....ever.

My older brother Jeremy would lay in the very back on top of bags and blankets. That was his precious area that none of us were allowed to invade. My baby brother Charlie however, managed to invade it from the front of the van with a slight flick of his wrist.

It had grown quite late and Jeremy had made his way back to his nest to sleep and was undoubtedly slumbering soundly. Once again, our family motto of safety first meant that Charlie who was about three at the time was wandering the front of the van between mom and dads seats. He reached up and began to fiddle with the radio which dad had turned down so low that it may have well been turned off. Charlie twisted the volume knob all the way with one swoop and at the same moment Jeremy, who's ear had been resting directly against a speaker, shot straight up, flat as a rail, and almost seemed to hit the roof of the van.
As his younger sister who he relentlessly pestered I found great satisfaction in seeing that happen and chuckled to myself. Dad shut off the radio and we all settled back down.

While on a different trip sharing the back seat with my baby sister Danielle who was probably seven or eight we had determined that just stretching out end to end would be the most comfortable way to sleep. I awoke to her snuggling my foot like a teddy bear and kissing it. Awkward to say the least. Being the good sister that I am, I remind her of that often. I mean, what kind of sister would I be if I let her forget such a precious memory?

Gross things happen on car trips, like really gross things, things we shouldn't talk about and yet I am gonna talk about them. I am a rebel like that.

Imagine if you will a place where smells collide one siblings odor to another and three days of funk permeates the air. Only the occasional stop for gas would allow us to sponge ourselves off in the bathroom. That is a task that few young children will do willingly or without having to be reminded. Things got pretty funky in the car for sure. The small two inch gap that the rear windows angled opened to was sheer heaven if you were lucky enough to sit by a window that you could put your face by.

After a particularly badly needed rest stop we were all in good form and we had all made a quick change of clothes since we would be arriving at Grandma and Grandpas house that evening. We wanted to look as good as you possibly could after traveling three days by car without stopping. As you can imagine we all arrived pretty haggard looking. But I digress. We had just made our stop and mom had grabbed a few drinks for us kids to go with our homemade sandwiches that she made us. Charlie grabbed his drink of orange juice and guzzled it rather quickly. It was quite a large drink for such a small three year old. Do you know what happens when you put 12 ounces of juice in a 6 ounce package and add a dose of shaking car to the mix? Yep, you guessed it. Tragedy!

Charlie leaned over moms shoulder and began to announce that he didn't feel good. What came out was "Mom, I don't feel very bleeeehhhhhhhhhh............." Poor mom! Covered now in stomach acid rendered orange juice and all she could muster was "Lovely, it's in my garments." Dad stopped as soon as he could for her to change again but the smell permeated the car the rest of the night. Charlie was forced to hold a garbage bag the rest of the way as well just in case he needed to open the floodgates again. Needless to say when we arrived we were all very grateful to get out of that van.

On a subsequent trip it was dad that grossed both me and Danielle out. Sitting directly behind him with Danielle next to me. Everyone was in a pretty decent mood. No children had been threatened to be "left in Kansas and picked up on the way back" if we didn't knock it of so things were going well. Dad was just driving along and sneezed into his hand and of course wiping it on his jeans would have been just gross so he instead wiped it down the back of his head. I glanced up and immediately my gag reflex took over. I tried to say Mom but it just wouldn't come out past Mo ugh Mo ugh Mo ugh. I tapped Danielle and pointed and she then saw the horror of what I was seeing. The big grey green booger in the back of his hair, and I mean BIG. She yelled out "Gross!!! Mom, dad has a giant booger in his hair!" Mom looked and all she could say was "Oh Rodney!", then handed him a napkin to wipe it out. Thinking back on that now still triggers my gag reflex.

On one particularly awesome trip to California I managed to get the worst sunburn of my life. I was ten and we had spent a fantastic day at the beach with my mothers twin and I ended up with blisters the size of quarters covering my back and down the back of my legs. It was incredibly painful. There was no way that I would have been able to sit on the ride home so I was grateful that this trip only had me and my two younger siblings in the back. Charlie was five and Danielle was three. I was laying face down on the center seat in the van. My back and legs were covered with burn cream and gauze. I was in quite a bit of pain and in that haze I didn't notice that my little brother was playing on the back of the seat and laying across it. All it took was one slight tap of the brakes and Charlie landed right on my back popping the majority of my blisters. I thought I was in agony before but I was quickly schooled on what real pain was. I screamed out and broke into tears instantly as the pain hit me and it was only worsened as he moved and scrambled across my tender skin to get off of me. I just sobbed and sobbed in pain. Dad found a rest stop and mom took me into the ladies room and ever so gently yanked the gauze off my back as quickly as she could. I almost fainted with that pain that caused. She did her best to cover the now open blisters on my back with petroleum jelly and once again covered me in gauze. Charlie was terrified to go near me the remainder of the trip. I hope you all see now why I tried to drown him in the last post.

So while this post is not quite as hilarious as my previous posts, I wanted to talk about my nightmares and get them out. After all, 9 out of 10 counselors say that talking about trauma helps you forget it.....