Yesterday morning I almost went to visit a Jefferson County Public Schools (JCPS) preschool. C has been going to a private preschool, but because he has a physical disability they have offered him free preschool on top of that. So I was supposed to visit one preschool yesterday...which I almost did but then we had a snow day.
And then I almost observed at a different preschool today...but then we decided we didn't have the heart to send our child to that school--40 minutes away downtown--no matter how good the school.
I was almost able to sub at C's preschool for a little extra cash, but by the time we figured out I wasn't making the preschool visit and called the sub coordinator back she had already found a replacement sub.
So I dropped C off at preschool, and then I was almost able to get done all the things I had planned to do in my 2.5 childless hours...but then I started emailing Adam at work about stuff and got sucked into the game of Spider Solitaire I was playing while waiting for his emails. I know, you can say it---totally lame. I promise I am not an "online gamer" but I think this morning I just needed to veg a bit.
Then, I was almost late to pick up C because I got this awesome ticket (first in like 10 years) a few months ago on the way to get him so I'm paranoid a cop is going to pull me over again so I go super slow.
Next, I almost lost C at the school. How do you lose a child who can't walk at a school full of teachers? Great question. He was in his manual wheelchair and I parked him outside the teacher's lounge door so I could run in and get his mobile stander. I left the door open so I could see him but a teacher came in behind me and closed the door. I might have been in there 25 seconds, and when I came out C was not there or anywhere in the hallway. Now I know he can move the manual chair himself, but he doesn't go very fast. So I started to freak out and was yelling his name, when his assistant teacher came out of his classroom smiling and pointed inside her door. I ran to the class and sure enough, he was "hiding" in the classroom. I really don't see how he could have gotten that far without a push so I assume his assistant teacher helped him hide, but you'll have to excuse me if I don't think it's very funny to hide a child from their mother. I did not express those feelings, but trust me--I felt it.
So I got C in the van and was loading the mobile stander, and I turn around to see his manual wheelchair, which I know I put the break on, taking itself on a merry journey across the parking lot, careening toward a parked car. I shot across the lot and grabbed it as it almost made impact. [At this point in my day, yes, I am starting to think the manual wheelchair is possessed.]
We got home, unloaded, and settled, and my sweet boy made me smile several times. Kids always make things better. And I was almost my normal happy self again...when the phone rang. It was the Medicaid office calling to tell us we were denied for the new Medicaid program we were having C apply for and have been waiting to hear about for three months. Definitely qualifies as "bad news" because it would mean a lot more things would be free. We will of course appeal and hopefully should be approved.
So, there you have it. A day of almost. And now, as I'm reflecting back about it, I realize that I almost forgot one thing that I know to be absolutely true...that if you get over one bad thing, another is bound to come your way because that is just how life is. It was, in fact, designed to be that way. The point is to find your own happiness in the middle of it all. So I better run, because I plan to "chillax," as C says, and watch a bit of Scooby-doo with him so I can look back on today as the day that I almost had a bad day.