This was not our finest trip. Nobody liked each other very much. We left Chicago at rush hour (not a good idea), and Noah announced that his stomach hurt. He hadn't had much lunch, so I thought he was probably just hungry and proceeded to keep passing him food. He ate a lot of carrots and trail mix. It was going to be late when we got home, and Mike and I were making a verbal list of all the things we had to do. Then the projectile vomiting started. It was one of those rare moments when I was overcome with hopelessness and wondering if it's all worth it. Mike exceeded the speed limit the rest of the way home, and we got the kids cleaned up and put to bed. Then we spent a long time cleaning up, hauling in, unpacking, and laundering. By the time I went to bed, I was feeling better about things in general and was able to recall some good moments from the trip, such as:
-the perfect weather
-watching the kids chase pigeons
-the great food
-the Asian taxi driver who loved my little Asians and gave them a candy bar
-beautiful harvest moon over the Chicago River
-eating ice cream at the zoo with Nina and Julia
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