Friday, we visited some family, just saying good bye. The baby seemed to be feeling better, but just in case, Ryan booked a flight for her and me. We thought we would play it safe. Who wanted to ride home with a screaming sick baby for 13 hours? We also picked up my nephew, Jake, to bring him back to Phoenix with us for a week.
Well, Saturday morning, we got up early and were getting ready to go to the airport. I was giving the kids a hard time about playing on the balcony. It's that heights thing again. It really freaks me out, and we were on the 6th floor. Even thinking about it now gives me sweaty hands. (I know that's not hard.) They weren't listening, though and kept playing outside.
So, I was upstairs packing, when Ainsley started screaming bloody murder. And I am not exaggerating. I ran downstairs as fast as I could. I have never heard her scream like this. Ever. She was yelling something about Brandon and I literally thought he had fallen off the balcony. When Ryan and I got to the bottom of the stairs, he was in the living room throwing up. It took me over 1/2 hour to get my heart rate back to normal. I was so mad at her. Not to mention the fact that I then had to clean up barf. Ryan was instantly on the phone booking a flight for Brandon, too. There was no way he was going to drive back with 3 kids, and one of them barfing.
So, here I sit on a Saturday night, with 2 of my kids sick and asleep while Ryan and Ainsley are in St. George hopefully NOT throwing up themselves. I pray that they make it back safely. And although we had a great trip, I am SOOO glad to be back to enjoy the final week of summer before school starts!
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