Lampooning Tahoe

In an effort to get away from it all for a few days, to get my husband to relax a bit after a brutal month in which he's been pulling 80-hour work weeks, to have quality family and friend time on this, our nation's birthday, we decided to go to Tahoe this past week. Tahoe kicked our arses, people. Two car accidents, Phil placed nearly out of commission with a pulled muscle group in his side, and a Sunday evening trip to the emergency room at Tahoe Forest Hospital for Kane, who needed three staples gunned into his head after a floor lamp mishap. We needed to get home before anything else happened to us. Channeling the Griswolds, we decided to pack Thrusday morning for a Thursday morning departure. We ended up leaving near the pre-planned departure time, but kind of frazzled ourselves inthe process. After a stop for a late lunch in Grass Valley, and an explosive diaper from the HurriKane, we caught up with our friends, Mark and Holly, and proceeded back onto the highway for the rest of the trip. It was only about an hour more, the sun was shining, we were excited to see the place where we were going to stay - hey, look, Donner Pass, there's still snow on the ground, and ... SCREEEEECHBLAM! We got rear-ended by a truck driven by a man with a Stetson and a waxed moustache. No one was hurt, except for a slight case of whiplash from Phil. Fifteen miles later, we were lauughing, oh, ha ha, there's our little mishap of the trip, good thing it was so slight. Hm, except we forgot the Rule, which is: Bad Things Always Come in Threes. Our, in our case, fours. So we get up there, and the place is gorgeous and spacious and high atop a ridge so have a tremendous view - Click here to see pictures - and everything is swimmingly well the rest of that first day. Then, Friday morning, Phil wakes up with a weird pull in his side. He doesn't say much, because he doesn't like to moan, but I can tell it's really hurting him by Friday night. Of course, he forgets it for a little while because his friend and old Lacrosse coach, Rem, comes for dinner from his home at Incline Village. I watch Madison as Mark and Holly go to dinner, and it's generally a smooth night. Flash to Saturday morning. Phil goes golfing with Mark, and Holly and I go to the pool to splash with Kane. By the time Phil comes home, he needs painkillers and is breathing shallowly. He keeps saying: "i'm fine, I'm fine; I just have to relax and stretch it a bit." But it gets progressively worse, and despite his pain, he goes out to meet Mark's friend, Mike, while Holly and I hang out at the cabin with the kids. Sunday morning, we are on our way out the door to meet Mike and his family out for lunch in Tahoe City, and Phil, who can't turn around properly to see out the back window of the car, runs right into a big pine tree and shatters the back glass into a million pieces. We spend the next fifteen minutes cleaning up the driveway, I cut my foot, and we laugh that, oh, yeah, this is the third bad thing that happened. Whew, good thing it's over now. Except. Except Sunday night we are sitting at dinner in the cabin, Phil, myself, Mark and Holly. Carly is chilling in her little bouncy seat, and Kane is running around and trying to show off to us (Pay Attention to ME!, is the sentiment). He keeps climbing into Madison's stroller and standing in it, and we keep telling him to get down, which he does, only to climb back up again in a minute or two. Just as we were finishing our Chicken Parmisan, we all, for whatever reason, turn just as Kane, standing once again in Madison's stroller, leans a little too far in it, causing the back of the stroller to fall onto the base of the floor lamp nearby, which causes the floor lamp to smack into the wall, which then causes all of the glass on its shade to come crashing down around Kane, who is now stuck in the stroller on all fours. One piece of glass doinks Boo Boo Head on the right side about two inches from his ear, and blood starts pouring out of his little head. In this matter of seconds, all I hear is HOlly's gasp as we all watch this happen, and then, it is a mad rush of activity, of me scooping him up, Phil grabbing a towel and examining his head, Kane crying (more because he's scared) and Carly beginning to wail. Mark holds Kane in the backseat as Phil and I drive to the ER, leaving Holly with a sleeping Madison and a hungry Carly. Kane, who has gotten a Dum Dum lollipop for the car ride, is perfectly fine, but Phil is so shaken, he can't even laugh when Mark and I let off a little nervous energy by giggling over how this will sound when we talk about our relaxing little getaway. When we finally get to the hospital - about twenty minutes away, the bleeding has stopped, but the cut is deep, so Kane will need stitches. Kane, by this time (it's about 7:30 p.m.) has loads of anxious energy, so he begins showing off for the people in the ER waiting room, running from person to person, showing the green Hot Wheel he got from the admitting nurse, and exclaiming "Car" for anyone who wants to hear it. He gives everyone in the room high-fives, and climbs up and down, up and down on the chairs, and grins at everybody passing by. Phil finally makes a joke by saying he's going to run for Congress at this rate. Jerry Brown calls, and props are given to Phil, who only tolerates him for a minute before saying: "Jerry my son and I are in the emergency room, so I will have to call you back." By the time we get to a treatment area, it is 8:30 p.m., and Kane is spent and nervous and missing his nighttime ritual. He starts crying and asks me to pick him up and cuddles into my arms, with me telling him it will be alright. Finally, he pulls back a little and looks at me with big, wet green eyes and asks: "Bink?" Which crushes me, because I then have to say: "I'm sorry honey; I don't have a binky with me." Fresh tears. Mark has gone out to get Kane some juice, which he has also been asking for, and by this time, I am in danger of missing my second feeding with Carly, so Mark drives me home and then goes to pick Phil and Kane back up. I'm so glad I missed the end, because Phil said it took four people to hold Kane down while the doctor put in three staples in his head. Hey, man, I saw Kane's circumsition, and that's about all I can stand of seeing my son in pain and fear. Monday, we didn't move an inch from the homebase. But we did recover a small sense of relief and relaxation. And that was our vacation. And now, I need a break.