On Sunday, Clio went to "interview" at Brooklyn Heights Montessori, the school we hope she will attend two days a week next year. The date has been in the calendar for months, but somehow, with the mad scramble we undertook, you'd think we were snuck in on a last minute cancellation or something.
Let's see, where did the fun begin? Oh yes, when Clio sprouted a fever the night before her appointment, and I, home alone, gave her some tylenol, put her to bed, and crossed my fingers. Around 4am I woke from a bad dream- and realized that I was still home alone. So the real fun began when my husband came home at 5am from a night out with one of the dads we know (thanks, Matt!). We had previously agreed that Dave would take Clio to the interview, as she tends to be less clingy with him; at 5am, I found myself recalculating all of these plans.
Well, Clio woke fever-free (but has been asking for "medcin" all week- damn if that tylenol isn't the closest to candy Clio's ever come), and Dave did a miraculous job of recovering from his short night's sleep, and the two of them got all bundled off to make it to the 10am appointment nice and early, the way Dave insists things must be.
Except that we remembered that, the previous afternoon, Dave had discovered the car with a dead battery. Turns out someone had forgotten to turn the lights off when she was bundling a toddler and many bags from Target into the house in the rain. (Did I mention that I am just now remembering how forgetful pregnancy can make you?) So they called a car service, and Dave hooked our car up to his motorcycle battery charger in the meantime. (Seemed like a good idea to be chauffered and not to deal with parking on the other end, anyway).
So off they went, only to discover that the appointment was not at 10 but 10:30 (I must have put it in my calendar for the time we needed to leave the house, just to be sure), so there Dave was with 45 minutes and a toddler on his hands. The admissions lady was nice enough to offer that Dave could just wait in the school, but after he perched Clio on a high bench and she face-planted into the ground, resulting in wailing and blood, he thought it best to head out and find the nearest park. Which he did, and Clio apparently had a very lovely time. Dave, however, was somewhat soggy, as Clio's sippy cup had poured everywhere while he was separating her face from the floor.
The miracle of the day is that somewhere in all of this, Dave called me from the cell phone he had managed not only to charge but to bring with him and turn on (!!!!) in order to tell me he would be home later than expected, and not to worry (!!!!!!!). (And while we were talking, did I think I could change the voltage on the battery charger from high to low, seeing as how things were taking longer than planned).
They arrived home in one piece, with Clio starving for cereal, which I had sent along in the diaper bag but which Dave had left at the school (or in the car service or park) in the scramble.
At some point in the afternoon, I remembered to ask how the interview had gone.
Dave smiled at me and said, "she killed it."
Performing under pressure already? That's my girl.
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