My how time can heal

(This post was written this morning. I have finally found Internet access!)

It’s 10:10 AM and I’m sitting at “The Cowboy Bar” at the Denver airport. I have a Bloody Mary on my table and no Internet access, but I’m happy. It’s official – my vacation has started. I haven’t referred to it as a vacation prior to this, but I think I will now. I should, after all, because “time away” is what you call a trip to Kansas or South Dakota, but going to Florida definitely constitutes a “vacation”. Especially after the last few hellish days.

By Monday morning, Ella and I were feeling a bit better. We gambled and took Ella to school. It was her last day at her preschool and I really wanted her to have closure and attend that day. She coughed a lot, but had a good day. Monday night was our LAST family dinner with all of Chris’ brothers, their wives, his dad and his son. We finally put our foot down and insisted that we all go out to a restaurant. Our timing was off and by the time we got to the restaurant, the kids were over-hungry and whiny. Their behavior was terrible and it continued through our tour of Chris’ newly-renovated warehouse office building afterwards. I pulled a SCREAMING Ella out of the building and took her home early. It was too long of a day for both of us.

I woke up Tuesday with a nervous stomach. I felt like I was going to a job interview instead of taking my baby girl to her first day of preschool in underwear. She did not have an accident-free weekend, but I blamed it on her illness. The school was prepared for her and she blended right in. I whipped out her inhaler and proceeded to show them how to use it on her for her noon treatment. The teacher and director looked at each other awkwardly and then explained that they do not administer medication, but they would keep if for her so that she could give it to herself. I flipped out. What? Are you nuts? She’s TWO!!!!!!!! They threw a bunch of “..she probably should be taught some independence” crap at us which I stifled with, “No. It’s too important to get the dose right. We will come at noon.” Chris works somewhat nearby, but it still was quite an inconvenience that we weren’t expecting. I explained our weekend and prepared them for potential accidents. She cried a little, but quickly jumped into things as I quietly crept out. I felt much better and went on with my day. I called to check on her about two hours later and was told that she had had a “poopy” accident. The director cleaned her up and said, “I normally call parents, but it’s her first day.” Thank you, but what the hell does that mean? Call the parents?

My day went well. I had a lot of work to do, but had a nervous underlying feeling all day. About 1:30 PM, Chris called to tell me that the gas company in Wisconsin had called after they received a call from the Green Bay Water Department. The Water Department wanted to know if the heat had been turned off because we had a $344 water bill. OH. MY. GOD. That was the final straw. I broke down at my desk crying thinking of water flowing down my wool carpet runner on my newly stripped and stained grand staircase. Chris also had a breakdown and starting swearing and threatening to give the house back to the bank. The only person with a key to get in and check things, my father in law, was in the air heading back to Green Bay. It was a low point to say the least.

About an hour and a half after that call, the school called again to say that Ella had had a second “poopy” accident. They weren’t going to change her. Policy. They couldn’t find Chris, so they wanted me to come. I work thirty minutes away. I was furious. “You want ME to come and clean her up?” “Yes.” “But I am over 30 minutes away.” “We can’t get a hold of Chris.” “So you mean to tell me that she has to sit in her dirty underwear until I get there?” Silence.

(To be continued....)