It was a Wednesday afternoon. I had spent the previous two days attending an out of town conference. After a grueling time of picking up the pieces in my classroom due to an incompetent sub, I was ready to get home and take a hot bath. Driving up the street, avoiding the swarm of students who were free at last, I thought about my own four children who I knew were going to be ready for some mommy time. My husband left on a business trip and after two days of fast food, I decided that I would forego the bath and try to be "perfect mom" and make a nice dinner for the kids.
A quick trip through the grocery store and I had a swing in my step as I headed for the car. I can do this, I thought. Work full time, go to grad school, take care of a husband and kids.... I am great! It was a good day- the sun was peaking through and I had even gotten a parking spot right next to the cart corral!
I threw the bags in the back of the Durango, grabbed the hatch and whack.....shit.
I am in a daze....somehow the hatch landed right on the top left side of my head....what the hell...??
My first reaction was to look around- remember, I am great.
Hopefully no one saw this small catastrophe that just occurred. Two people on my six...far enough away to not have noticed. I reach up to my head and feel a damp stickiness. What to do. The next 15 seconds brought a variety of scenarios. Going in the store might offer too many unknowns for a control freak like me. Can't go home- might scare the kids if it is really bad. Off to Sister's house. Driving with one hand glued to my exposed brain (I have obviously taken first aid courses!) Woman in front of me will Not Get OUT OF MY WAY! I may be dying for crying out loud!
Sister takes a look and says shit. We better go. Go? Go where? Stitches? No. I have to make dinner. Remember, being perfect mom tonight. Plus stitches = pain. I am really NOT into pain.
My feeling of life being great turned into 10 staples, bloody hair that couldn't be washed for 24 hours, 7 kids up late with another crappy dinner (my sis' kids ended up at my house) and 1 more sub in my classroom the next day. I don't even think the teenage doctor appreciated my asking for an epidural before he stapled my head shut.
But, ya know....life is great. Sister and I had a good laugh. We got the chance to bond- something that rarely happens much anymore. The kids had a great story to share with their friends. Husband felt bad that he wasn't home to care for me (yeah, right!)
Shit happens. Not just to me...to everyone. Life is fragile and as we go about it trying to create perfection in the middle of chaos something like this happens and we realize that we are not in charge. But the shit of life is sometimes what allows us to realize how great life really is.