The Best Part of My Day

My commute to work in the morning is long, but my commute home always seems much longer.  I find myself racing the clock...can I get there quicker today than I did yesterday?  If I make these lights I'll beat my best time.  Maybe there's a shorter route, a quicker cut-through, a less traveled path.  I'm always trying new roads, new ways, new directions all to get to the same place.

In the evening the radio station is replaying the exact same talk show I listened to that morning, so normally it's just background noise that fills the silent air.  My mind wanders to chores that need to be done that night, what I'm making for dinner, bills that need to be paid, things that need to be done in the Richmond house...but mostly I think about them.  I think about the moment that I see them.  It's always the best part of my day.

Ainsley will be telling her teachers stories of our plans for the night.  She'll go into great detail about visiting aunts and uncles or dance class or going to Richmond.  Freddie will be with a toy.  Pushing it, shaking it, pounding it or whatever is most fun and loud to do with that particular toy.  Then they'll see me and they'll drop whatever they're doing and make their way to me.

Those thoughts push me to get there sooner.  They're the reason I hate the traffic and curse the other drivers.  My life with them is crazy and hectic and forever on the move...but any time I spend away from them, I spend missing them.

I park along the curb and walk up the driveway to the large house on the corner.  This is where they spend most of their day.  I let myself in and slip off my shoes...no shoes allowed in the daycare portion of the house.

I walk down the stairs and I hear them before I see them.  They are happy, I hear it in their voices and laughter.  I emerge into the spacious basement.

Hi Ainsley!


MOMMY!!!!


She runs to me and wraps her thin arms around my upper thighs.

Did you have a good day? I ask.

By this time Freddie hears my voice and he is squealing like we rarely hear him laugh.  He toddles toward me, faster every day.

Hi Freddie! I say as I scoop him up and give his soft, squishy cheek a big kiss.  He giggles and wraps his chubby arms tightly around my neck.

The three of us are one giant hug of laughter and love.  Yes, this is definitely the best part of my day.

The New Girl

As I walked back to my desk I could hear my cell phone ringing.  I dug it out of my purse just in time to see the "missed call" alert flash on the screen.

My desk phone began ringing and I recognized the number...Clif.

Hello?


Hey, it's me.  Daycare just called.  Freddie has a fever.


And just like that it happened.  The thing I had been stressing over and worrying about was real and happening.  Three weeks into a brand new job and I would need to leave early and take the following day off.  I knew it was coming.  Freddie's cough had started Sunday morning and had only gotten worse.  Last night, in my semi conscious state, I thought he may have been warm.

This morning I had battled over what to do.  Even without the fever, the cough and his clinginess were enough to keep him home...take him to a doctor.  The fever only confirmed what I knew.  And if I were in Richmond,  I knew exactly what I should have done.  I should have called into work and taken him to his pediatrician as soon as they opened.  But we aren't in Richmond.  Which means I haven't been at my new job long enough to accrue leave and we have no pediatrician.  I haven't found one yet, partially because I've been too busy with other things and maybe mostly because I love our Richmond Pediatrician so much that I can't bear the thought of taking them somewhere else.

I gathered my things and apologized to my new boss.  Getting out of DC to my sick child is not like leaving Richmond.  In Richmond, I could be to the kids in less than 15 minutes.  Not so here.  We chose a daycare closer to my in-laws, mostly due to financial reasons.  I wish that weren't what we had to base so many decisions on...where to live, where to work, where to send our kids.  I wish money weren't such a deciding factor.  So because the daycare is closer to the house and because I park 1/4 of a mile from my office (also a financial decision), it's almost an hour before I arrive.

It's 4:30 when I buckle the kids in and get back in the car, headed for...well, I'm not sure where.  Clif and I had discussed just going to an urgent care.  It could cost us a bundle, but how in the world could I possibly get in to see a pediatrician that I had never seen before so close to closing time?  So I head for the closest urgent care.

I unload the kids and drag them inside.  Freddie is miserable.  They take one look at us and say "We don't see children under 5."

This is where I come dangerously close to loosing my mind and telling the woman behind the counter exactly what I think of her medical facility.  My mind starts racing and I don't know what to do.  There's a part of me that wants to get in the car and drive to Richmond and never come back.

I take a deep breath and ask them if they know of any pediatric facilities near by.  They give me a number to a pediatrician's office...but now it's 4:50.  So I strap the kids back in the car and call the insurance company.  She was very nice, but she can't tell me if a place takes kids or not.

So I just start calling, because honestly, I haven't been to an urgent care facility since I was in high school and I have no idea if any of them take infants.  Luckily, the first one I call does, and they're right around the corner from Kip and Denise's house.

So after a missed exit on the beltway, 5 o'clock traffic and my wallet forgotten in the car we are finally waiting to see a doctor.  It's an ear infection.  His first.  Ainsley had had 4 or 5 by this age.

And that was that.  We filled the prescription, got pizza and made it home by 9.

So the thing I had been stressing over and dreading happened and I made it through.  I can't tell you how many times moving back to Richmond went through my head.  I felt so completely lost and Richmond is just so comfortable.  I know what to do, I know where to go.  I don't have that confidence here.  I'm always worried I'm doing something wrong...at my job, during my commute, with the kids...but I figured it out.

It kind of turned a bad day into a better day.  So maybe this whole move will not beat me, maybe I'll still come out on top.  For the last three weeks I have not felt that way, I've felt the exact opposite.  I guess that's how it happens, little victory by little accomplishment until you forget that you were once the new girl.  I just hate being the new girl.