On Being Derailed

I taught a student who had to be dragged out of his car for his lesson.  Then found out he is switching to trumpet in a month.
Ptolemy was scheduled for general anesthesia at the dentist and woke up with a fever, clenching his tummy. The dentist was cancelled.
While I was practicing with Freestone, Tziporah used the toilet brush to decorate the whole bathroom with poop.
I took Ari and Golda shopping for things they needed, didn't find those items, spent money anyway, and made them feel guilty about it.  Fun mother-daughter bonding time, huh!?
Had to reschedule guitar because of a play practice that I swear was not on the schedule, and moved the guitar lesson so it was during Ruby's ballet class.  Ruby had to call and re-reschedule it.
Took Ruby to the doctor for allergies and sinus problems, leaving all the kids home watching Care Bears, wondering where Mom went.
Had a bawling breakdown at Scott's office, where I wailed in front of his secretary and some clients, "I am the WORST shopper!"  First world problems??
I picked up Tziporah and ended up with a puddle full of pee filtering down my new shirt, my white skirt, and into my right shoe.  "Did you just pee on me??"  Enthusiastically, "Uh-huh!!"
Tried to do a 30-minute errand in 10 minutes, and then felt my blood heat up to boil as the cash register at Neverland Emporium had to be rebooted, making me late for everything that happened the rest of the day.
Had a violin waiting on my table all day long for a repair and never got to it, just like I never got to a hundred other things on my list.
Once the three girls were gathered in from their ballet classes and lessons, fed pizza and delivered to play practice, I took the 4 littles to Cherry Hill.  Once there, I mercilessly lectured Freestone about "just freakin' MINDING ME so we can all have fun, dangit!!"  Then I left him to watch Tizzy while Ptolemy took ten years to go to the bathroom and decide which soap dispenser to use to wash his hands.

At this point, having failed each and every child individually throughout the day, I spotted my friend Michelle, waving me down.  Oh, thank heavens!  A friendly face!  As we talked, my frustration and free-floating anger started to melt away.  Just as I was about to pull Daredevil Tizzy out of the pool for the 5th time, this handsome man appeared in stylish sunglasses, a linen shirt and crisp, navy blue swim trunks.  He scooped Tizzy out of the pool and held her against his clean, unbespotted outfit, while she probably peed.  He took the boys "mini-golthing," as Ptolemy likes to call it.  He gathered kids and supplies from the four corners of Cherry Hill and stuffed them in my car with all the pizza crusts, ballet shoes, underwear and wet towels, while I drove alone in Scott's perfectly clean car, listening to Haydn.  (My man had classical music playing in his car!  Be still my heart!)

When I came out of the shop from my violin lesson (with a student who was earnest and fun), there was this handsome man, having foot races with our kids on the lawn.  Their faces showed remnants of Bowman's half-price donuts, the glazed sugar highlighting the glow of their happiness.  Later that night, Ari called from play practice and said that she was finished, while the other girls weren't.  I picked her up and took her to Dylan's for a Summer Half-Price shake.  (Dopps know the deals)  We sat there and talked, the mother-daughter bonding time Ari had so craved.

Sometimes you can't redeem yourself.  Sometimes it takes a listening friend, a wise, understanding, proactive husband, an enthusiastic student, a forgiving daughter, a Heavenly Father who answers jumbled prayers, to put you back on track.  By the time I had padded around the house at midnight, locking doors and checking kids, I felt not quite so derailed as I had all day, my train careening wildly around the life I was supposed to be in control of.

Control?  Ha!  There's a chance I'm just along for the ride, and I just don't know yet that I'm not the engineer.