Road trips and other natural disasters

It’s a constant source of amazement to me how horribly wrong things can turn on any given day; especially when that particular day has been ear marked as one that is going to be significant. It then stands to reason that if a collection of days are anticipated as being special, like, say, a holiday, then a type of ‘calamity magnetism’ ensues.

*sigh*

Well, at least in my world.

I do wonder if I’m unique in this; is my life purpose to balance out the good and bad happenings in the cosmos? Not to sound bitter (heavens no! I embrace the craziness), but if I was to be drawn as a cartoon, besides being particularly becoming, there would be a storm cloud drawn over my head and an idiot grin on my face.

Yep, that about sums it up.

I have wondered if everyone else is editing their lives, only offering up the savoury bits? Surely not. Stories are always more interesting with a bit of blood and vomit (preferably not in the same occurrence, though).

By now you are surely wondering about my horrendous holiday happenings. For ease (and in the name of brevity) I will list them:

• Fell down ½ flight of stairs and split open foot- blood and exposed flesh – bruised forearm – very embarrassed.
• 12 out of 14 in our unit simultaneously suffered a gastro/vomiting virus – knocked out for 2 days.
• Son smashes head on coffee table – massively bruised forehead – thankfully no child protection services involved.
• Two more family members fall down stairs (not as spectacularly as me, though).
• Number 13 succumbs to vomiting virus 4 days after everyone else on the day we leave – 6 hours of driving and car vomit.
• Somewhere amongst it all, a mystery head cold emerges in the children. Lots of snot.
• Do three blind pimples count? I mean, seriously!(I could be lying here, I think there were more but I’m in denial).

In spite of it all, I would rate our trip away as fantastic. Sure, it had it’s own set of troubles, but we were really living life fully skiing down those slopes (just a little out of control, hanging on the edge of the skis…). None of the misadventures were life threatening (although I wanted someone to shoot me in the ninth hour of the whole bile-vomiting episode), and just like Bond, we all lived to see another day.

Lows serve several purposes; they make us stronger, teach us patience and contentment, and make the highs all that much sweeter.

To live is a risk, but who would have it any other way? Not me (she says giving a helmet head-butt to her brother-in-law snowboarder…)