Cracks in the Armor

(Feel free to skip this if you're tired of my rants, because this is yet another rant.)

Finn had an appointment this morning at the Speech and Hearing Center for a baseline hearing eval. I scheduled this appointment weeks ago, per our pediatrician.

Do you have any idea what it takes to get 6 kids up, fed, and dressed in the morning, get 4 of them to school on time, and then haul a baby and a 2-year old across town to a doctor's appointment? Do you have any idea of the stress it involves? Not that any of that is anyone's problem but mine: I made my bed, so I lie in it. And that's fine. I do the best I can, and most of the time I think I manage the situation pretty well. I only mention it to set the scene for this morning.

Now can you imagine how frustrating it is to go through all of that, fight traffic on the freeway en route to said appointment, arrive at the scheduled place and have to deal with a completely insane and inadequate parking situation, and then actually feel pretty good when you walk through the door of the office with your baby and 2-year old in tow only a few minutes late?

No imagine signing in (being honest about the fact that you were a few minutes late: "Appointment time - 9:45; Arrival time: 9:50), finding a seat and waiting, waiting, waiting, watching other people come in and be given paperwork to fill out and wondering why you haven't been given any paperwork to fill out. So you finally approach the front desk where young, snotty receptionist with overabundance of makeup dwells, and you say to her, "Am I supposed to fill out some paperwork?" Then she looks at you and says, "You were late." "Yes, I know," you say, "I was about 5 minutes late, and I noted that when I signed in." "No," Miss Bitchy-Too-Much-Makeup says, "I looked at the clock when you arrived, and you were more than 5 minutes late. We can't see you today."

What would you do in such a situation? Perhaps you would go apeshit like I did. "WHAT?!?!? ARE YOU SERIOUS???? I WAS FIVE MINUTES LATE AND YOU'RE NOT GOING TO SEE ME NOW?????!!!!! DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT TOOK FOR ME TO GET HERE THIS MORNING?!?!?!? DO YOU KNOW HOW BAD YOUR PARKING IS OUT THERE?!?!?!? THAT'S WHY I WAS LATE!!!!! AND NOW YOU'RE GOING TO PENALIZE ME?!?!?!"

I probably don't need to mention that I stormed out of the office crying (that seems to be what I do under pressure these days - cry). I stormed back to the hell that is the parking garage, Lilah wailing the entire way because in leaving, I had to drag her away from the toys in the waiting room. I got in my truck and cried, cried cried. Then I called Michael and yelled and cried some more.

I am starting to really understand why people go postal. It's not the big things, it's the accumulation of little things. Someone loses their job, has their house foreclosed on, their wife leaves them, and they hold it together. But someone cuts them off in traffic and they lose it. That's how I'm feeling (don't worry, I'm not going to go gun shopping - I'm just saying). All the pressure and stress with Michael and Finn and all that, I can pretty much hold it together. But these rude people? Cancelling my appointment because I was a few minutes late? That I can't take. When I was sitting in my truck crying, I honestly just had that "I want to run away" feeling - like I just can't take one more freaking thing - not one.

So I came home and cleaned. That's my therapy. When things feel out of control, I clean. It makes me feel a little more in control. So now that the girls' room and playroom is all organized and tidied, I'm feeling a tad more together.

Meanwhile, Michael called the Speech and Hearing Center and spoke to the office manager about what happened. Not that it accomplished anything, and of course now I feel like a schmoe - siccing my (sick) husband on them. I'm sure they think I'm really pathetic now. Not that I care. But now I have to suck it up and call them myself to get Finn a new appointment.

Fuckfuckfuck. (Excuse the language.)