Finding meaning and creation through cancer, adoption, and a series of seemingly unconnected strings of life events.

In the fall of 2013, I was zealously venturing into the next phase of motherhood. My oldest child had just turned three. We had recently returned from a week in California after the last-minute, unexpected adoption of our second child. Our home was still in boxes from a simultaneous move across the city. My husband was still in graduate school. And, for some reason, my husband and I thought this was the time to go “all in” on our consulting business. We had yet to find a nanny to help, and I was too naïve to realize we needed full time assistance. We were drowning and didn’t even know it.

I was overtired, overworked, and determined to do everything right. So, naturally, I decided it was time to explore our new community… by myself, with a newborn and a three-year-old who was (obviously to everyone but me) dealing with some extreme sensory issues.

I stayed awake after the 4 a.m. feed and got enough work done to hold things off until naptime rolled around. I speed walked on the treadmill for 30 minutes, ran through the shower, did the dishes, and prepped our bags for the day so I could greet my three year old when he  woke up at 7:30 a.m. and then get everyone else ready.

As you can imagine, the events that unfolded next humbled me in the comedic manner life often does. Here’s the recount of the day as I described it to my husband in an email:

My day thus far: I got out the door at 9:20 a.m. completely packed with the hope to go to the library and a park… I even packed a thermos with hot water for a hot bottle for the baby… I was ON TOP OF THINGS.  

Big boy decided at the last minute he did not want to go, of course, but he had already watched five episodes of Arthur. We got to the library and he does not stay on the sidewalk… I found him wandering in the parking lot while I was getting out the baby…Note to self: need to figure out a better system for child unloading.  

Big Boy decides he doesn’t want any books: “I don’t want to do nothing” and has a very sour attitude.  I finally find a dinosaur book and we decide to get it and a DVD about trucks.  He is finally happy, so I tell him we can try to find a new playground next which makes him very happy.

We asked the ladies up front about a park and we head out to “the best one in town.” Turning back onto the main road, a motorcycle cop turns his lights on behind me.  Baby begins to scream as he is hungry, and Big Boy is thrilled by this unexpected visitor…. he would NOT stop talking to the officer, asking questions, and wanting to know if I would be arrested. Of course, my inspection sticker is expired and my proof of insurance is out of date, but thankfully he sees that I’m in a little over my head and have a kid that won’t shut up about his baby brother until the cop opens the back door to look at him.  Seeing the newborn, He lets me off with a warning. I take one more dive in the giant bag I call my purse and actually do find my updated insurance card which means we can go ahead and get the car inspected right away… which is where we head to next.

I headed directly across the street… they won’t give me service because I’m actually registered in a different county. I start to tear up and they amazingly got me in right away as long as I promised to switch my registration immediately. We sat down, got situated, and took a deep breath – then Big Boy spontaneously falls over on the tile floor.  Nothing was by him… nothing… he just fell over.  While comforting the screaming child…. #2 decides to join in the action…. So we sat there, crying and screaming for 20 minutes while the car gets inspected. Before we finally get in the car, I ask the Big boy if  he needs to pee –nope – onto the park.

We found the park… After meandering through a long windy road, Big boy asks “Where are we?”  That’s what I was thinking too… it’s the middle of the summer and no one is here or at the pool right next to the park.  We’re in the middle of this big community park and no one is here.  Weird.  But I see it… in the middle of the field… t takes us sevn minutes to walk in a crooked, meandering line with baby carriage and toddler in tow across the field to the playground. (Why would anyone put a playground for little kids in the middle of a field so far from the parking lot?) 

And when we arrive – Big Boy declares that he does indeed need to pee. No one is around so I point to a tree for him to pee on and he is thrilled. He pulls up his pants just in time for a car to pull up. A middle aged man with big broad shoulders gets out. Maybe he is here to clean the pool that no one is using…. or maybe he is here to murder us because no one would hear our screams out here in the middle of nowhere… I keep my eye on him and he disappears behind the pool building.

That’s when Big Boy announces he has to poop. Now someone is here. I can’t let him poop in the grass because whoever that is might see him. So, we pack everything back up and start the long march over to the pool bathrooms, but they are locked of course. There’s a porta potty on the other side of the building. Thankfully, it’s unlocked. Big boy refuses to go in. It’s dirty. I grab my baby wipes and clean the potty. Nope. Big boy won’t sit on it and he needs to go. Bad. I suggest we head home, but he doesn’t want to go home either.  

I finally make an executive decision – we are going home. I end up dragging the screaming child who needs to poop to car.  The baby has fallen asleep from the drama of it all.  And we start the drive home—exhausted – but finally quiet and calm.

Just as we pull onto the main drive, I see something- a roadrunner! I point it out to Big Boy… and almost instantaneously…. THUMP…. The roadrunner decided to try flying and instead hurled itself into my windshield. That’s right: I killed a roadrunner.

At that point, I started crying. So, on cue, Big boy starts crying again too. He declares he doesn’t want to be a big brother anymore.  We get home. I convince him to poop and watch another video.  I got some food in him and he started feeling better.  I fed the baby, and then I fed myself.  

I put the sleeping baby down on a blanket and walked to the kitchen for some water.  When I return, Big Boy is holding baby by the head trying to get him to sit up…. by. the. head.  I rescue the baby and make note to always put him in a safe place from now on. I educate Big Boy on how to safely hold his brother, who then proceeds to have yet another meltdown…

I hold him, rock him, and build that child back up because he is really a good big brother and we just need to learn how to hold baby right. And then, magically, I found out that nap time actually came early today. My smartest parenting move of the day… and it isn’t even 11 a.m.

On days when I feel like everything is too chaotic and falling apart, it’s good to look back and remember that one day this may also be a funny survival story and all I need to do is make it to nap time.