It's hard to believe that just one week ago, I was trying to decide whether to stay or go. The trigger was the announcement that I-380 (between Iowa City and Cedar Rapids) would close by 6 p.m. When I heard this at 2, I kicked it into high gear, packing while the boys slept, loading the car, then the boys (including plucking a sound asleep Edward from his bed) and headed out. I started by back-tracking because I knew the most direct road to the Interstate was clogged with traffic. I got gas and cash on my way out of town and headed east. I got on I-80 going west and sailed through with no traffic to 380. Since 80 was closed east of here there was only local traffic on the road. I also breezed through the section of 380 that would soon be closed. I thought I was in the clear.

Oh, how wrong I was.

Shortly after the Iowa River bridge, traffic slowed and then came to a halt. I knew it would be slow-going given what was happening in Cedar Rapids, but nothing I'd heard indicated the road was closed. Plus the traffic was moving fine southbound, so I didn't think I needed to alter my route. After about an hour, we were approaching a rest stop between Iowa City and the CR airport (maybe a total distance of about 10 miles.) Not knowing what lay ahead, I decided to stop and feed Daniel--trying to avoid getting stuck between exits with a screaming, hungry baby and no way out. Ed had a snack while I fed Daniel and changed his diaper. All told we were stopped for about 15 minutes. When we got off, a yellow cement mixer was right behind us. When we got back on, we were several cars in front of the mixer. This did not bode well. Also, our new location was directly behind a cattle truck. Luckily, I was able to switch the AC to the "recirculate" function and keep the smell out. I was later treated to the sight of a cow pooping out the side of the truck. But that was so minor in the scheme of things.

An hour later, we had still only reached the airport exit, which is normally a half-hour trip. I had the map out and was trying to see what alternatives I might have for getting up to Highway 20, which, as far as I know, was the only major east-west road that was open all the way to the state border (Mississippi River) throughout this flooding ordeal. By the time I decided to try another route, I was about 100 yards past the airport exit. I pulled onto the shoulder and started to back up toward it, but the man in the car behind me suggested that instead I turn around completely. He'd seen me for the past two hours trying to cope with the situation--standing/inching traffic, two kids in the back seat, map reading in the front, etc. I executed a three-point turn on the interstate and drove the wrong way down the shoulder back to the exit and got off.

I thought I could take Highway 965 (which runs basically parallel to 380 at that point) as far north as Highway 30, which I knew was flooded to the east, but open to the west. I thought if I went west a bit, I could take another route north to Waterloo. John was online at home checking for the latest road closures and told me that the next road north (Highway 218) was closed, but the one after that (Highway 63) was open. So I'd have to drive an hour west to Tama, then north to Waterloo, then east to Dubuque. First hiccup in the plan: when I got to Highway 30, the westbound entrance ramp from 965 was flooded. So I had to get on going east, then turn around at the next exit and come back west. After that, it was a smooth, but long trip. Once we were moving, Daniel fell asleep and Edward, comforted by his "teenie and paci (blanket and pacifier)" was calm and observant in the back seat.

While we were stuck in traffic, we were all miserable. Edward kept dropping/throwing his toys and his drink cup on the floor. We were stopping often enough that I could put the car in park and reach back to retrieve things, but it was driving me crazy. I thought I was helping Daniel by hooking a toy onto his sunshade for him to play with. I didn't realize until he'd been crying a while that he'd kicked the toy enough that the shade was down and the sun was beaming in directly on him. This would make me scream too!

So all told, the kids were actually pretty amazing. It took six hours to get to Dubuque, where my parents met us after driving from Evanston (through their own traffic nightmare--Friday night rush hour in Chicago!) I would NEVER plan a six hour trip with kids, even with another adult to help, much less as a solo caregiver. Even when we go four hours to Evanston, we stop somewhere to run around for a bit. But these were extraordinary circumstances.

One more blooper to add to the mix: Daniel woke up just before Traer, Iowa so we stopped there so I could feed him. Edward stayed in his seat eating a "squished cheese" sandwich (one of his favorites--American cheese between two slices of bread, all squished down flat.) The bank parking lot where we stopped was right next to a gas station where I saw gas was only $3.80. After everyone was fed, I thought I'd top off the tank since we'd used so much already. I also realized that despite limiting my own liquid intake, I was not going to make it to Dubuque without going to the bathroom. I have never done this before, never intend to again, and certainly would not have if it hadn't been Traer "no one around" Iowa. I ran into the store, gave the clerk my credit card, told her my kids were in the car (locked with front windows rolled down) and ran back to the bathroom. Worst 90 seconds of the trip, hands down. But we all survived.

Then I thought I should give the boys fresh diapers for the remaining (roughly) two hours of the trip. Too late for Edward. He was totally soaked--top, bottom and car seat. So he got out and stood next to the car while I changed him and then put a blanket over his soaked car seat before putting him back in. (It dried overnight and I washed it when we got to Evanston, but still pretty gross to make the trip in a pee-soaked seat!) As I was getting back in the front seat after all this, Edward said, "Mommy, don't drive!" My sentiments exactly.

We got to Dubuque at about 8:45 and pulled into the parking lot of the Best Western on Highway 20. I called my parents, who, as it turned out, were just up the road at the Hampton Inn. They hadn't checked in though, so they came to us. I could not even bear to put the key back in the ignition at that point! We got two rooms at the "flood rate" and joined a hotel full of evacuees. Edward was excited to see Gram and PopPop, who got him a snack and some milk while I fed Daniel. Then we all sat outside for a bit, letting Ed burn off some steam. He stayed in their room and Daniel and I stayed down the hall.

The Iowa City to Dubuque trip is 83 miles by the most direct route. If I could have gotten through on 380 it would have been about 168 miles. This trip was approximately 210 miles.

On Saturday we drove on to Evanston with my mom driving my car so I could more easily tend to the needs of the back seat. Again, the boys were very good, sleeping part of the time.

Sunday was a very sad Father's Day for John with all of us gone and not knowing when we'd be able to get back. I was hoping for Wednesday at that point, but that was only a guess. I knew I could not return until Interstate 80 reopened--there simply was no way I could repeat the Friday Odyssey. As it turned out, the road cleared overnight Sunday into Monday morning and the Dept. of Transportation announced around noon that it would be open by late afternoon. John called me as soon as he got the press release. Given Chicago traffic though, we could not leave that afternoon. We waited until Tuesday morning and then hit the road. Grandma and Grandpa met us at the Iowa Welcome Center, just after we crossed the Mississippi--again, extra adults are so helpful when traveling with small children. What a great feeling to be home!

So our town never lost water or power, which were my primary concerns, but I won't second guess the decision to leave. If I'd waited to see whether the worst would happen, it would have been too late to leave. We ended up having a nice long weekend with my parents, including a trip to Lincoln Park Zoo on Monday (where Aunt Nora took the pictures with this post), and though it was hard to be separated from John, I think it was the right thing to do. As one of my co-workers said on Thursday when I first started thinking I should leave, "This is millions of years of evolution at work: A mother's instinct is to protect her children."