Like a chicken with no head

I've been running around this past week, trying to get everything squared away for the big road trip.

That's right. My morning sick ass, husband recently diagnosed with depression, and whinny 8 month old baby are venturing on a road trip. Starting in Northern California, stopping in Montana, Idaho, Washington and finally Oregon. I'm nuts. We're nuts. God be with us.

It all started with me wanting to go to my mom's for Thanksgiving. She's the stop in Idaho. My husband figured since Montana is kinda on the way, we should stop and see his grandparents, he hasn't seen them since he was 16. So how could I say no? Then we decided to cut over to Western Washington to see my best friend from high school and just follow I-5 down, stopping at whoever's houses we know on the way. All of this in 11 days. Whoohoo.

Normally, I love traveling, especially by car. But, when I'm pregnant, I become very motion sick if I don't drive. And my husband is newly on anti-depressants and they dosage is still up the air. Which means, he's as moody as a PMS'ing me. If you know me at all, you know this is bad. I'm not worried about the little one so much, since she did so well during the road trip to Hell. I'm just worried about her whining getting on me and hubbies last nerve. I can't promise not to drive over a cliff, Thelma and Louise style. I guess we can be happy that Montana is mostly flat land. Mostly.

So, I won't be updating much, kinda like how I haven't been these last weeks. Bear with me, I'll get back to finding humor in puke and poop soon.