Home again, home again

R. is home from her three day long field trip to Williamsburg, VA. I did the same field trip when I was in 7th grade so she has been looking forward to it and gloating that she got to do it so much younger than I did. I knew she'd have a good time although she was alternately thrilled and apprehensive about going without me (given my aversion to other people's children for extended periods of time, I didn't choose to chaperone).

So on Wed. morning at an appallingly early hour, I schlepped her and her things to the school. Somehow I was the only mom there still in her pj's (and some of them had hair and make-up done--I may never fit in here!!!). Luckily R. loves me even though I'm not a fashion plate, although I fully expect this to become a bone of contention as she heads into her teens in the next few years. I drugged her up with Dramamine (she's the orignial car-sick kid) and sent her on her way. After that, she was on her own. Apparently she had nightmares after the "haunted" Williamsburg tour (no surprise to me) and spent the night coughing. She enjoyed walking around the following day and said the woodworking was the most interesting. But her souvenir from the trip? Candy and a book. Now I know she's my kid! She was sweet enough to get her brothers each some candy and some Ghiradelli chocolate for me (she must have heard me talk about the Ghiradelli mile in the marathon). Sweet kid. :-) But that night she spent the night alternating between coughing and vomitting. How badly do I feel for her chaperone?! I wasn't called about it though so when I saw her get off the bus smiling tonight, I asked about the pillowcase-less pillow. Her answer was that it was in her bag. I was so focused on making sure she didn't get sick on the return trip (her chaperone had contraband Dramamine for her) that it never occurred to me to question why the pillowcase was in her bag and not on her pillow. Yup, she barfed all over it. Ironically, when the buses were delayed getting home tonight, I was crossing fingers that it wasn't because R. had been sick, causing everyone to have to stop while she was swabbed down. I can't decide if what happened is better or worse. I'd say only three girls know she was throwing up all night but if I remember girls that age, the entire grade knew about it within moments of them meeting up for breakfast the next morning.

I didn't go on the trip and yet I still have to wash nasty puke-y stuff. Ain't parenthood grand?! But I'm glad Barfing Betty is home and glad she feels fine now. Now to get flowers or something to apologize to K. for having to deal with my sick kid all night.