I know, I know, today is Tuesday, but it sure FELT like a Monday to me!
The first class at CHET starts at 9:00 am. I usually try to be there by 8:30 so I have time to make my copies for both classes (1st and 2nd grade Spanish) and drop Isaak off at his "class", with plenty of time to ease him into it. (Nothing against Ms. Jodi, his teacher, but Isaak does NOT like his CHET class...yet! He usually goes into the church nursery just fine, but he's still adjusting to this CHET business. But I digress...)
So, CHET starts at 9. We have a 30 minute drive, so I figured that if we left by 7:45ish or 8, we'd be ok. With that in mind, I got up at 7, showered, and dressed. Yes, we CAN leave the house in an hour! Just not today...
We were out of granola bars (our standard "in-a-hurry" breakfast staple) and out of Cheerios, so we all had granola. By the time the kids finished their small bowls of granola, I had eaten and made sandwiches and lunches for all five of us. I changed and dressed Isaak while the girls brushed their teeth and hair, then we all got socks and shoes on (and that's 4 cowgirl boots pulled on, and 6 shoelaces I tied in case you're interested!). Then coats, and a hat for Isaak, two trips to the van with bags and a boy...and my windshield was frosted over. We sat in the sun for a minute to let it melt, and pulled out of the driveway at 8:20. Ok, not exactly on time, but it was workable.
Until I got to the road that goes past our neighborhood.
Our neighborhood is about a quarter mile off of the highway, and there is an elementary school about a quarter of a mile down the road from us. It's a two lane road, and from 8:00 to about 8:45, the "I-just-dropped-my-kid-off traffic is backed up from the stop sign to the school. (Sigh, fidget, fidget. I HATE being late!)
Six minutes later we were on our way. The interstate was relatively clear and we made good time (NOT speeding!), and we were going to have about 6 minutes to get into the building, make my copies, and drop Isaak off. Still not a best-case scenario, but doable.
Until I got off at the exit.
A semi-truck had started through the intersection and broke down in the middle, blocking all but ONE lane of a four lane intersection. So I went south instead of north until I could turn around and go back through that ONE lane he'd left open. I was still hopeful, though. If the elevator was ready, and if I didn't make my copies before my first class and just dropped Isaak off over the gate instead of going in with him, we might make it.
There was a geography fair set up on tables in the hallway to the elevator, and we had to wait for the elevator to come back down. I didn't make my copies, and when I left Isaak he was still inhaling for a gigantic "I-can't-believe-you're-leaving-me-here-with-these-people-again" scream. I was two minutes late. And my coffee was cold.
In two hours, I said "Put your candy/toy/shell away" three times. I said "Put your candy/shell away AGAIN" twice. I said "Shhh! Just raise your hand, don't shriek at me!" at least six times. I said "Sit back down" four times. Once I said "We don't have show and tell in Spanish class unless you can do it in Spanish. Do you mind if I finish reading our book now?" (Sarcasm is lost on 6-year-olds, I'm afraid!) I said "We're not READING a book about Obama right now, and he's not from Peru anyway, so please save your comments for later" only once. :) One of my 2nd graders accidentally knocked his chair over twice, and another (my special needs girl) fell asleep. (She later apologized very sweetly.) :) FINALLY, after two very long hours, dragging a rolling suitcase full of my CHET supplies and a huge garbage sack full of hand-me-down clothes for Isaak, we left the building.
But not before Isaak pushed the "call for help" button in the elevator. (And, yes, I AM laughing NOW!)
We ate lunch in the car, then I drove for an hour to Fort Campbell to go to the commissary, with one eye on my gas gauge to see if we were going to make it (gas is WAY cheaper on post!). We made it, but as I was pulling up to the gate, I realized that my military ID was not in my wallet. My military ID is ALWAYS in my wallet. I need it for EVERYTHING -- to get on post, to buy anything on post, to go to the doctor... They turned me around at the gate, and I sat in a parking lot going through my wallet and my pockets. I remembered sticking it in my pocket when Mike and I went out the other night (not there), and then when we got home, I stuck it in the diaper bag (not in that pocket), but I remember thinking that I probably wouldn't think to look...ah ha! Finally.
They let me on post :). I got gas. ($1.73/gallon -- you can hate me later!) I got groceries (and really great deals on green beans and a bag of bruised pears). Things were looking up! :)
While I was arranging the groceries in the van, I broke a fingernail off so low that it bled. Isaak threw up in his carseat on the way home. Anya spilled chocolate milk in hers. Jaela pointed out when we got home that Daddy leaves for Afghanistan in three days. Anya spilled her milk at dinner, too.
My portion. My cup. My lot is secure. My heart can be at peace. My Father is in charge. How simple!
Ah, life is GOOD!
