Last weekend, the weather was unbearably hot and so we decided to drive to the coast for the afternoon. We had a great time. Livi even slept in the car for a little while and was in a good mood when she woke up.
The way back was, as usual, not so pleasant. Livi hates getting back into her car seat and so she sung her usual song of intolerable parent cruelty. I usually sit in the front, but if she gets too loud, I do sit in the back with her trying to keep her occupied.
This time, however, things were a little different. We decided to take a different route, which winds through the mountains. I get car sick, but since I was sitting up front and since toddlers aren’t supposed to get carsick (according to hearsay soon to be disproved), we didn’t think twice about it.
A few miles into the curvy territory and Livi started to cry. Only it was different from her usual complaining. She sounded miserable. So I made my husband stop the car and and I took the hot seat next to Livi in the rear, keeping her company while desperately trying to ignore my nausea.
I started our calming down dance, which mainly consists of me juggling a mountain of toys and books while singing, grimacing, and comforting her, but nothing worked. Livi didn’t want to be entertained, only to hold my hand. I knew that something was up when she suddenly turned very quiet.
And then it happened. She turned her head, rolled back her pretty eyes, and puked everywhere … into her seat and all over her clothes and hands. Did I mention she was holding on to my hair while it happened?
I am not sure you know how much strength it takes not to join the fireworks. During those short minutes riding in the back, I had gotten seriously nauseous myself. Now I was sitting there, trying not to move and stay calm.
Livi finally started to cry again and my husband was frantically trying to find a spot to pull over. Meanwhile I was busy arguing with my lunch over which direction it should go from here.
My mind started to race, thinking of the best way to clean it all up. After all, we were in the middle of nowhere and we still had to use the car seat to get back home.
Somehow I ended up being the one cleaning it all up (why am I not surprised?), while my husband heroically calmed down Livi. All I could find were her wipes but I figured it was better than nothing. I am not going to lie … I gagged more than once.
In the end, I was able to clean it up well enough (thankfully, the whole seat cover can be tossed into the washer) and then covered the whole seat with all the blankets I could find. It held up pretty well on the ride home and Livi was in a much better mood. I, on the other hand, was sick to my stomach for the rest of the day.
Now I am just wondering about one thing: Livi’s seat is still installed in the rear facing position and we had planned to keep it that way until her second birthday. But what if she keeps getting carsick?
For now, I guess we’ll avoid winding roads, and see what happens.
Do any of your kids get carsick? Do you have suggestions on how to avoid it and/or survival tactics you’d like to share?