- My old buddy, Time, must have heard me talking about him yesterday. He apparently felt some of my comments were out of line. That’s the only explanation I can muster for his blatant sabotage this morning. Time knows there are some days we have to abide by its strict limits. A work day is that for me. I’ll admit I’m usually late the rest of the time. “Usually” is a pretty lenient term to describe my tardiness. It would be better suited to be described as “usually, umm, actually, most of the time.” I can’t help it. I will use my young children as my excuse. I will. I will. If you don’t like it, you can come get them and try your hand at getting out the door in a timely manner. But back to the days you got to stick to limits; well that’s work for me. It’s the one place I go, ever, without my children in tow.
- This morning I woke up, an hour before my alarm went off, in excruciating pain. I don’t want to be too graphic, but I’ll just put it out there. It was my boob. There’s this bad word in breastfeeding called a clogged milk duct, and I had it. It’s kind of like a kinked water hose. The water is turned on full blast still, but only a little can escape. This causes a back-up of milk that results in tenderness (strike that, pain, it’s pain) and a red, firm, hot object that doesn’t resemble itself. I spent an especially long time this morning encouraging my baby to nurse, and hopefully clear the duct before I would be forced at work to apply suction to such pain. After that fiasco, I rushed into the shower and prayed that I would be on time. After my shower, I remembered I would need to wash all the bottles and accessories for my breast pump supplies. I intended to do this last night, but spent 7pm-11pm fixing dinner, bathing children, putting on pajamas, reading stories, and rocking two kids to sleep. One of them woke back up just as I was trying to converse with the husband I hadn’t seen since 8 that morning, and required being put down again. By the time all that was done, I ended up just crashing. So I went to wash bottles and make coffee this morning. This was around the time I realized my dryer was still broken and I would not be fluffing up my uniform. I never remove laundry when it’s first done. This means lots of wrinkles. The good thing about most scrub fabrics, though, is that they de-wrinkle nicely in the dryer. I looked at the wad of scrubs that looked like they had slept between the mattress and box spring, and cringed. No fluffing this morning! As I rushed out the door, after pumping what baby hadn’t eaten, and in turn, rewashing bottles and pump accessories, I saw the puppy. Her water was almost empty. No time! I drove past my flower bed I had forgotten to water last night, again! No time! I looked down and saw the gas light flashing. No time! There’s never any traffic, or hardly any, on an early Saturday morning. You already know! This morning there was.
- I know you’re probably on the edge of your seat wondering how I managed. It’s ok friends. You can relax. I made it to work on time. I was one minute later than usual, but I made it. I texted my husband on the way, to tell him about the dog’s water. Don’t worry! I was at a red light. It seems the rain took care of my flowers today. I made it to work with the flashing gas light, even though it vexed me the whole way. (Yes, I prayed it would get me there). I do have an iron and ironing board, and I miraculously knew where to find them, even though I haven’t used them since we moved! Everything got washed. Prayers for the family were still said. Coffee was enjoyed, via a to-go cup. The clog was eventually resolved. Thank you again, prayer (and a little Motrin). For Mr. Time to be so compelled to trip me up this morning, I never cursed him. My resolve and dedication must have impressed him, for he rewarded me by not slowing himself down during my 12 hour shift. He marched right on, and so did I.
That is all 🙂