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I woke up, went to the gym, came home
and got ready for the day all before the 2-year-old was even out of bed.
The
problem, I feel, began with overconfidence.
I thought I had it all together. I
was going to be out the door an hour before I usually leave the house. This
would not only allow me to arrive at work in a calm, composed, collected manner
(not *exactly* my usual style)…
... b ut also to get some work done before I greeted my students.
Yeahhhhh... Nope.
If parenting has taught me anything, it’s to never ever EVER believe
you are one step ahead. My four-year-old was happily fed and choosing her
outfit for the day when the dragon toddler awoke.
Gabby fiercely and independently declared that she wanted eggs and (even better) that she wanted to open them herself. I set her up with a hard-boiled egg at the kitchen table, marveling at this new stage of hands-off parenting I was entering. What a dream. What a gift.
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via Giphy |
Gabby fiercely and independently declared that she wanted eggs and (even better) that she wanted to open them herself. I set her up with a hard-boiled egg at the kitchen table, marveling at this new stage of hands-off parenting I was entering. What a dream. What a gift.
No.
I made the mistake of deciding to wander off to find the
hairbrush for the four-year-old (because MULTITASKING) and that’s when it all unraveled.
Gabby helped herself to another egg and apparently peeled both, then smushed
them determinedly into the living room carpet. She then began pooping in her
nighttime diaper, but, intrepid adventurer that she is, she quickly stripped
off her pajamas and very large diaper and, dragging them across the room,
headed to the potty. Unfortunately (for me), she was still actively defecating
at the time. When I turned around, our faithful hound was gleefully slurping up the spoils.
Dog banished, boiled egg and feces cleaned up, and still (miracle of miracles) on time, I breathed in deeply, choked on the pungent mélange of excrement, egg and Lysol, then cheerfully chirped, “Okay girls. Let’s get in the car!” only six decibels higher than usual.
Dog banished, boiled egg and feces cleaned up, and still (miracle of miracles) on time, I breathed in deeply, choked on the pungent mélange of excrement, egg and Lysol, then cheerfully chirped, “Okay girls. Let’s get in the car!” only six decibels higher than usual.
They immediately obeyed after only seven minutes of shoe
choosing and arguments and as I snapped the last car seat buckle in place,
an enormous sense of relief flooded over me. Stress melted away as I closed the
driver’s door and clicked the garage door opener.
Twice.
Three times.
Then, a
large metallic THUNK.
Fine. I am a modern woman. I calmly exited the car and
pulled down on the emergency rope to manually open the garage door. It turns
out, however, that if the metal BAR holding the track has suddenly just decided to BEND,
then there is no way to heave up the door, no matter how much you can squat at
the gym.
Problem solving skills on high alert, I opened the other garage door and hopped back in my SUV. Over the next minute, I deftly maneuvered my vehicle exactly sideways so that it was even
more hopelessly trapped in the car prison, likely forever.
At this point I had three thoughts:
So I did what I always do when I’m in a mess.
At this point I had three thoughts:
1.
Bad bad words.
2.
It’s too late to not go to work. As a teacher,
it’s more work to find a last minute sub, send in a plan, and sort out the gong
show that is not showing up than it is to run 20 miles to school.
3.
What now?
So I did what I always do when I’m in a mess.
I phoned my
husband.
Unfortunately, he was busy saving lives 20 miles away at work and didn’t
answer. I followed my emergency protocol and phoned my sister. She
graciously offered me the use of her vehicle but her daughter was sleeping. I
unloaded my children from the car, deposited them in the running stroller,
threw a booster seat on top of them and speed walked to my sister’s house.
We
threw the kids and carseats (sort of in that order) in the car and I raced to
day care to drop them off before driving (my sister’s vehicle) to school.
Eye twitching ever so slightly, I entered the classroom to greet my students, trying to concentrate on abstract learning while concretely wondering if my car will ever exit the garage again.
Being a working mom is awesome, but not today.
Eye twitching ever so slightly, I entered the classroom to greet my students, trying to concentrate on abstract learning while concretely wondering if my car will ever exit the garage again.
Being a working mom is awesome, but not today.
Have you ever had one of these days? Tell me I'm not alone in the comments below!
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