My mom didn’t tell me there’d be days like this
The day began innocently enough, my hubby even made coffee before he left while we were all still sleeping. So when this first little person woke me up, I grabbed the biggest mug we had and quickly downed a cup. Wonderful.
Christopher’s day yesterday hadn’t left him time to get his check from work. So anticipating the auto-withdrawl payments on their way out (gotta love those) and knowing he was overloaded with work down south again today, we set out on a trek to Marysville (30 minutes north). Then headed south (40 minutes) to the doctor for one of the kids. We were late but made it. Taking four kids to the dr. is really no small task (I get all sweaty just thinking about it) but Christopher prayed us through the whole endeavor and it went well. No concrete answers were found, which was disappointing. Next steps were given. Nothing too serious.
Now we were late to our next stop (20 more minutes east) to Kindermusik which is always the highlight of our day. We missed the whole first half of class. Bummer. I had spent the whole drive out on the phone with doctors and insurance companies. Getting different answers and being told my child could not be seen where I wanted (where I believe he would receive the most excellent, competent care) due to insurance. I offered to pay out of pocket for it all, she emphatically told me still, they could not see him.
I felt helpless. I suppose it wouldn’t have gotten to me so much had I not spent all of yesterday on the phone inquiring about life insurance and adult medical insurance. It’s just not at all my idea of fun. I’d rather scrub my toilets (and they are absolutely disgusting). I remained on the phone when I dropped the kids off for class. I got Audrey out of the car and went in to wait for them.
Class ended, the kids were so happy to have been out of the car and been with Miss Beth, whom they love. We headed out in the very warm sun (85 degrees!) to go home. I looked in my door. My keys were sitting nicely on my seat. That’s okay, I never lock my car. But today of all days, I did. Another mom stayed till she knew the locksmith was on the way, she offered water and food and diapers. The kids had all just snacked and the guy said he was only a minute away, so I said we were fine.
He also said it would be around $70 to unlock my car. Yikes! Maybe AAA would have been a good thing to have…
We found some shade and the kids were happy to run around. I was mulling over the doctor/insurance stuff, along with the fact my mistake had just cost us a lot of money. As Kyler ran by me, in the blazing sun, a pungent smell assaulted my nose. A worse-than-average-what-did-I-feed-that-child? diaper was in dire need of changing. The other kids started running away from him so they could breath. It was bad. My diapers were of course in the locked van.
The “1 minute” turned into 5 then 10 then 15 minutes. Now Kyler is crawling around sobbing because his skin is so raw and blistered from the dirty diaper. Audrey wants to be held. I am sticky and hot. The kids have sweat dripping down their faces. Our adventure is turning into a disaster in a few short minutes.
Kyler, in trying to relieve the pain sticks his hand down his pants and gets poop on his hand. I have nothing to wash him with and hold out hope for the locksmith to pull in. 20 minutes now, still no sign. Kyler finds a wad of chewed gum melting in the hot sun. What else would a 3 year old do but try to pick it up? Disgusting. I send him and Rylee inside to try and clean his hands while I wait for help to come.
After 45 minutes, the man arrives to unlock the car. I am fairly incoherent at this point, hungry, tired, emotional, distracted by the crying toddler screaming “It hurts, my poopy hurt so bad!”. I go to change him while the guy writes the bill. I give him my credit card since I still haven’t made it to the bank yet with the check we got this morning.
I change Kyler and leave him naked as he cries so his bum can dry a bit. I turn around to get the receipt.
$150. For 4 minutes of work. There must be some mistake, they said-
Here’s where the day gets the best of me and I have a complete breakdown in the parking lot of the Boys and Girls Club.
I start weeping and trying to talk to this stranger who just popped my door open with a little tool in a matter of seconds. I talk about my husband and how hard he works and go on and on. While a buck naked, whimpering toddler holds my hand. It really isn’t about the spending of the money, but the principal and again the helplessness of it all. Of course I needed the guy to unlock my car, of course I knew it would cost something. But $150, really?
He mutters something about not setting his prices and I, shaking and crying, take the piece of paper, pick up naked Kyler and sit in the front seat. The rest of the kids are hushed. They’ve rarely seen such a display from their mother.
I sob for 10 minutes. I try to explain that it’s the combination of the whole day, money stuff always works out and it is just money after all. They are kind. They tell me it’s okay. They offer to call Daddy and explain to him that the locksmith man just took all our money and that Mommy is sad.
We head for home, get the check in (not soon enough of course!) the bank and have popsicles on the kitchen floor together. I make more doctor calls and finally get a few answers. I know in a day or two, it won’t seem so bad and even just writing about it takes a bit of the sting away.
More than anything, I know these words to be true:
1 I lift up my eyes to the hills—
where does my help come from?
2 My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
3 He will not let my foot slip—
he who watches over me will not slumber.
I am ever so glad He doesn’t. I need all the help I can get.