I used to be the person who raced to work in the morning, trying to be one of the first ones to get to school. I stayed at work well after my work day was done, helping students and staff until dinner time. That was before I had a life. Or a Girl. One of my favorite memories is when the Sophomore class made personalized Valentine cookies in the school kitchen. I learned how to use the giant mixer, which was a delight to me. We were there late in the evening, mixing dough, rolling out cookies, cutting them with a giant cookie cutter, and decorating them with the custom messages. It was loads of fun. I still look at that mixer with nostalgic feelings. Anyway, back in the day, I was overly devoted to my job.
Now that I have GirlNearly9, things are entirely different. Her schedule has always determined my schedule. My arrival to work has been dictated by the babysitter's arrival in the early years, and later by the time that the daycare opened in the morning. My departure from work was dependent on what time the babysitter wanted to leave, and then by the time that Girl5-6-7-8 got out of school. I freely admit that my arrival and departure times occasionally do not meet my high standards of being on time. In fact, there have been many days when I grumpily announced, "We're late!", and stomped out the back door.
There is a wide variety of factors that influence our morning departure. One day, unbeknownst to me, Girl7 didn't finish her milk. She put the cup in the refrigerator, trying her hand at being responsible. On the way out the door, I opened the fridge to get my lunch. The cup of milk, which had been precariously perched inside, tipped out and spilled all over the kitchen floor. There were a few days when Girl8 realized that she hadn't done her homework the day before, so she decided to utilize all of her morning time, forgoing eating, getting dressed, or brushing her hair. Hairdos play a large part of the morning routine, and there have been several days when the right hairdo did not present itself in a timely fashion. There were a couple of third grade meltdowns which took some time to diffuse with hugs and quiet talk. I shocked myself a number of times when I heard myself shouting, "Stop reading! We have to go!!" Do not be quick to blame, Accusatory Reader, for it isn't always GirlNearly9's fault. There have been days when I had to turn around, as we were en route to school, because I forgot to take my pill. There have been days when I hit snooze three too many times, and I jumped out of bed because I realized that we were supposed to be leaving in fifteen minutes.
Today's morning was not unusual because it had its typical drama, but it was a first in our house. GirlNearly9 slumped out of the bathroom, holding a flower for her hair and wiping a tear off of her cheek. She explained that she had tried, unsuccessfully, to put the flower in her hair. Then she tried to employ a small barrette. The clip slipped out of her hand and fell down the sink drain (I have pulled the drain plugs out because they are ugly. A foolish decision, in hindsight.). She was crying because a) she couldn't fix her hair, and b) she had lost the barrette down the drain. I wanted to cry because a) I am scared to death of plumbing and the bad results if I screw up, and b) we were going to be late because of this new drama. I shined the flashlight down the drain and could see the glint of the barrette. Reassuring GirlNearly9 that I could fix this (I had my fingers crossed behind my back), I told her not to run any water in the sink until I remedied the situation when we got home.
All day I thought about how I could get that barrette out of the drain without tearing apart the pipes. I kept coming back to a tool that my dad used to have, called "Long Finger" which was a long, skinny tool with retractable grabbers. I wished I had one of those, but magnetic. I thought I had used one when I dropped the oil cap down into the engine of my car when I was pregnant (another day that I was late to work, actually, and I cried - not because I was late but because I was not going to get to go to IKEA later if my car were out of commission), but I couldn't find it. I finally hit on the solution in one of GirlNearly9's toys: a set of magnets from the Lowell Observatory in Flagstaff, Arizona. They are marvelously strong, skinny cylindrical magnets that connect end-to-end. I hooked about five together, then dangled them down the drain. They immediately snapped up the hair clip, and I emerged from the bathroom, triumphantly singing my theme song, "Takin' Care of Business".
I am feeling pretty confident about being on time for the next few weeks. Not because I have solved every problem known to man, but because we are on VACATION, BABY! (virtual high-five)
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