The afternoons/evenings have been a bit more chaotic this week as I’ve had to take NikkiZ home from daycare everyday. Yesterday, due to a meeting MrZ had, I also had to pick up LilZ from school at 3pm. Since I wanted to work as late as possible, I decided I’d pick him up first and then go pick her up, even though it was backtracking to an extreme. I essentially drove all the way home to get LilZ, who goes to school just a couple miles from our house, and then I crossed 16 miles across town to get NikkiZ. That was Step 1 of How to Turn a Wednesday into a Monday.
Step 1: Drive into rush hour traffic, away from your home, around 4pm, to get your child from daycare.
Step 2: Get her to the car and realize that one of the straps of her car seat has come out of the safety latch on the back of the seat.
Step 3: Have a small anxiety attack thinking about what would have happened if that had occurred during a car wreck.
Step 4: Try to unhook the car seat to get to the back to re-hook the strap.
Step 5: Realize this is a lot harder than it looks. Take your son and daughter back inside the school since it’s cold, and tell him to sit in the foyer with his sister while you fix the seat.
Step 6: Admit you’re too weak to fix it alone and need the help of your 12-year-old son.
Step 7: Go BACK into the school, ask the administrator to allow you to leave your daughter so your son can help you.
Step 8: He helps get one part unhooked, but the other part tears up your fingers in the attempt. Remember, it’s very cold.
Step 9: Go BACK into the school, and ask the director if you can use their car seat.
Step 10: Realize you left your keys in the car.
Step 11: Send your son out to check and pray he left one of the doors unlocked.
Step 12: Watch him from the window. He waves, the door is open! Rejoice! Pick up the baby, the school car seat, and head towards the door.
Step 13: Meet your son outside where he asks if you have the keys on you because he didn’t see them anywhere in the car. “No. I don’t.” To which he replies, “Uh oh. I locked the doors this time.”
Step 14: Go BACK into the school where the administrator is now laughing at you.
Step 15: Have a teacher come up to you, when you are at your most delusional KRAZEE state exclaiming things like, “Is there a hidden camera? Why do I feel like I’m suddenly part of a wacky sitcom?” The teacher politely and gently puts her hand on your jacket pocket and says, “Here are your keys.”
Step 16: Laugh maniacally.
Step 17: Take the school car seat to the car. Buckle it in. Put the baby in the car seat and try to buckle her in. Realize you can’t get it to buckle.
Step 18: Call your 12-year-old son over to try because you don’t want to go BACK into the school and find out it was something dumb you missed.
Step 19: Receive a call from your husband just as your son is saying, “No – it’s broken or something. It’s not going to work.” Simply say to husband, “My car seat isn’t working, can you come get the baby after your meeting?” Leave out all of the other elements of the story.
Step 20: Go BACK inside. Show the car seat to the director where they all agree something is wrong with it. They offer another one, but luckily, your husband is on his way to rescue you from this cycle of embarrassment and doom.