Today has been a real doozy of a day. Having already been feeling a little downhearted about our current childcare situation, I received a text message from our nanny at eleven o’clock this morning. “Hi. My car has broken down. A friend is coming to look at it. I’ll let you know if I need you to pick us up”.
Erm. You what now!? All I knew was that she had my happy little Henry in the car – it took a few more messages back and forth to determine that she was, in fact, on the hard shoulder of a busy freeway, a good 25 minute drive from home.
Needless to say, I was immediately incredibly anxious – how many times have you been told what a dangerous place the edge of a freeway is? Stuck there, like the proverbial sitting duck, just hoping that none of those trucks hammering past will suddenly develop a flat tyre, or overestimate the distance between their ginormous wheels and the roadside.
Shudder. I was having palpitations just thinking about my innocent wee man, sitting there completely oblivious to his perilous plight, and undoubtedly wondering where his next snack was coming from. An hour it took, before I received any kind of update. By which time, I had decided to go and collect Evie from pre-school, and just head on over to pick them up myself, before my nerves were shot for good.
Imagine my consternation when, mind clearly on other pressing matters, I closed the car door on Evie, only to realise the keys were in there with her. <Click>.
I’m sure the teachers are well used to seeing deranged pregnant women, hopping up and down in the church car park, yelling “Evie, Evie….no, Evie, concentrate! Try the other button. No, not that one. The other one. NO! The OTHER ONE!”, as they tap on the window frantically. An everyday occurrence, no?
To cut a long story short, disaster was thankfully averted. The “friend” determined the car to be unfixable, and for reasons best known only to themselves, that dynamic duo decided to take my son to an entirely different town before texting to let me know where to collect them. Because, you know, it’s not like I’m busy with a full time job, or anything.
An hour later, we were all home again, me feeling 20 years older and considerably less than that wiser, and the kids apparently just happy to finally get some grub.
And…..relax. Except, of course, I couldn’t. I still felt so on edge from half a day of worrying, plus the guilt of having to put work on the back burner for so long, I just had terrible ants in my pants. But the sun is STILL shining (nothing short of a miracle!), the weather is suddenly considerably warmer, and I decided to try to at least end the day on a high note. HIgh ho, high ho, it’s off to the park we go:
Ahhhh…..and breathe. All I can say, is thank goodness for these little people. There is something about watching them play, instantly making friends with the first children they see, leaping off rocks, yelling “I’m the King of the caaaastle”, and generally loving life that just makes you feel…better.
The power of the Pepperlings. I should find a way to bottle it – we’d be millionaires, I tell you. Millionaires! #100HappyDays