Winds, wiggles, and wipes...

The actual trip to Chicago, for Christmas, was thankfully quite un-eventful. Six hours with three kids in one car proved to be pleasant. On the other hand, the physical arrival to Chicago was eventful.

We were greeted by 35 mph winds and flurries. Still safe inside our entry level Honda minivan I bundled up the kiddos and prepared them to run from the car to my parent's front door. They were so eager to get inside after patiently being in the car for over 6 hours. I watched Jay dash to the front door. Locked. "Ring the doorbell, Jay!!!" I yell. My voice is no match for the howling wind. I watch the door open, Jay falls through the entry way, propelled by the wind, falling onto my brother's feet. One kid safe inside.

I wrap the baby up and hold Lola's hand as we dash to safety. Happily inside we greet my brother and begin to shed ourselves from the layers of clothes. The kiddos begin to run around chasing the coolest uncle ever. I watch my husband begin to unload the car. The bags of presents. The gifts. More bags of presents. The wind. The flurries. My parents live a block away from Lake Michigan and the windy city was living up to it's name.

"Husband. It is freezing. Get inside! My parents are gone and the Uncle is leaving. Pull the minivan into the garage and close the door. It will be so much warmer to unload the car." I advise my husband.

"Okay." The husband goes outside, hops into the car, and pulls it into the garage." I smile at my brilliant idea and go back to watching the kids bounce off the walls with excitement.

I hear the door slam. "Son of a .... GET OVER HERE!!!" Sensing some serious trouble, I place Fifi upon my hip, and walk over to the garage. "I locked the keys in the car." My husband announces.

"Oh, man! Are you serious? Everything is in there. The formula, the diapers, the clothes, everything BUT the Christmas presents." I exclaim. The husband grabs a hanger and attempts to wiggle it around like an amateur. "Call the police." I adivise him again, surrounded by a mountuian of presents.

"You call." He is seriously pissed and now uttering two word sentences. "Call now." He wiggles the hanger some more.

I walk over to the phone and place the call and am immediately put on hold. I look at Fifi's eyes and watch her grunt a little. "Hello? Hello! We have a mini emergency. We just arrived from Ohio and we locked our keys in the car." Fifi grunts some more. After some time on hold, the operator informs me that since it is the day before Christmas Eve, and a Sunday evening, no one can help us. More grunting on Fifi's part.

"Police are busy. They gave me a list of tow truck companies." I peek inside the garage to see the hanger on the floor and my husband jumping on top of it.

"Call them." He whispers.

Fifi grunts some more. I settle the kids down in front of the TV and grab the list of numbers. The first company has a 2 to 3 hour wait. The second company has a 1 to 2 hour wait. I give them my parent's address and swing Fifi to my other hip, because the hip she was just on is strangely warm. Very warm. And the smell. What is that smell? I smell my shirt. Smells like... kupa.

I run to my parent's master bedroom and undress her. This is the real deal. A ten wipe job for sure. Except, we have no wipes. No diapers. No change of clothes. I start running the bath after noticing that her diaper failed once again and the kupa exploded and managed to reach her back. Her onsie was not salvageable. Trying to get her out of it just increased the amount of kupa that I was spreading over her back, arms, and shoulders. "PICKLES!!!" I yell out loud. I took a picture of her and sent out my first phone photo message to my best friend "Need diapers size 4 and wipes." I place her under the spout and let the force of the water clean most of the kupa off. I then use my hand to clean her of the rest, and wrap her body in a towel.

I peek into the garage and explain the story to the husband. "That sucks." He is still seriously angry.

My best friend arrives some time after to save the day. She even upgrades our diapers to Pampers. Pampers. The real deal. (Your thank you card is on its way). Maybe Pampers won't leak?

The tow truck guy arrives a couple minutes after her. He wiggles "his" hanger around once and opens the door. He charges $65.00 per wiggle.

My parents arrive some time after the tow truck wiggler. And suddenly, with family around and worries behind, it starts to feel a little bit like Christmas.

Christmas was un-eventful and perfect. We are in Chicago for another week and praying for more un-eventful, peaceful, and perfect days.