Crisis struck around 10:45am, in the middle of our monthly sales meeting, when I got a phone call from my daughter’s preschool saying that the staff was “in an uproar”, and that the school was going to have to close for the day. I was annoyed that I would have to find a babysitter, or subject my child to a day at the office. However, it was more than simply mild inconvenience. I am supposed to start working at the preschool on Monday, so having the place shut down would mean two terrible things for me: 1) I would have no job as of Friday, and 2) I would have nowhere to send my child during the day, even if I keep the job I have.
I zoomed up there the second I hung up the phone, to see exactly how bad the situation really was. The director was visibly upset, but the kids seemed oblivious to any problems. I grabbed Lil and headed back to work, all the while worrying about my employment situation, trying to decide if I should grovel and try to keep my job at the magazine.
By mid-afternoon I couldn’t take the suspense any longer, so I called the director. She seemed relieved to talk to me, reassured me that the school wasn’t closing, and proclaimed that I was to be their “saving angel”. Talk about pressure! I spent two summers of my life working at summer preschool camps, and I have been a mother for almost four years – that is the extent of my child care experience. But, I’m up for the challenge, and the classes at NH Tech will certainly make me feel more qualified. The school has done amazing things for Lillia, and I am honored to have been offered a chance to be part of that process. As far as I know, I still have a job, and my daughter still has a preschool, but I probably won’t feel 100% good about everything until I actually start working.
Lillia thoroughly enjoyed “Involuntarily Take Your Daughter To Work Day”. She was a horse pretty much all day (she’s almost always an animal…her equine alter-ego is called “Brongo”, but she’s also been “Dallas” and “Cabattaca” – that’s a phonetic spelling). When she wasn’t being “Brongo”, she was volunteering various bits of information about horses, and making various claims about her own abilities as compared to those of horses. She, in no uncertain terms, believes she can run faster than any horse. Her conviction lends itself to a certain degree of authenticity. I think my co-workers were entertained by her shenanigans. She managed to avoid napping, even though I constructed a very inviting bed for her under my desk. Instead, she galloped around the office for a good part of the afternoon, and was relatively content and amiable for most of the day.
Tonight we are both in chill mode. We spent some time in the backyard practicing our soccer skills, ate breakfast for supper, and now she’s watching 101 Dalmations. I am uploading photos and writing this post, and then I’ll probably join her on the couch. There’s nothing like doing nothing.