The (Ridiculous) Adventures of Momma Molloy

Just like every person who juggles a lot things in their lives, my life these days seems to boil down to a series of schedules, plans and events - all jammed together in a very strategic but seemingly chaotic clump. Some days this insane schedule goes perfectly smoothly - all according to plan. And other days...not so much. Halloween day this year was one of those days that felt like I was in a video game - heroine must overcome a series of crazy obstacles in order to win the ultimate prize.

Ever since Elise started kindergarten this September she has been begging me - on an almost daily basis - to come in to volunteer in her class. At her school, they do something called Writers Workshop which requires lots of extra adults in the classroom to help all of these brand new writers compose stories each week. At the Back to School Night, we were informed that in order to assist during Writers Workshop, you need to be able to commit to coming in each week on the same day (so that it doesn't take a lot of the teachers time training new people each week and the volunteers can work with the same group of students and have a good sense of each students skills week-to-week). While I do have a certain amount of flexibility at work, my weekly schedule varies greatly, which obviously prevents me from being able to commit to volunteering the same day every week (not to mention that it's from 1-2pm - which is a very awkward time in the work day to get there, especially since I work about 35 minutes away).

Of course Elise does not understand this whole complicated-work-schedule-situation, even though I have explained it a hundred times. There are plenty of other opportunities for me to come in and help her class, and I assure her of this each time she hounds me. The first thing that isn't Writers Workshop I promise I will come to.

The first thing on the schedule is the kindergarten Halloween Parade and Halloween Party. Excellent! Sign me up and I will be there. I put it on my schedule a month in advance. Done.

But of course these things never happen the way you plan.

On the day of the parade, Elise practically wakes up asking "you're coming to the parade, right?" Yes, yes I will be there. I will! However, because she was so pressed and was harping on this thing so strongly I had a sinking, terrible feeling that something was not going to go right. So I had put a plan in place just in case things did not go as planned. First, I asked my parents if they could come to the parade on the off chance that something crazy happened that prevented me from getting there, she would still have someone there to see her (Marty was out of town). Secondly, the parade was scheduled to start at 12:45 and it takes about 35 minutes to get to her school from my work. But I have to drive through the city and then take the highway, and there is always some potential for a traffic accident or road work or traffic light outage that makes the drive slower. So I put it in my schedule to leave no later than 11:45 - an hour being more than enough time.

That morning I had meetings until 11, and even if something went a little long, there was still plenty of extra time for me to get out at 11:45. But, coming out of my last meeting, I get an email from a funder asking if we could talk at 11:15. We started our conversation, and things were going fine when - at 11:30 - the fire alarm in my building started going off. I considered just staying on the phone to assume it was a drill (which it was) but ultimately decided that I could get in lots of trouble - or you know, die - if I ignored it. I rushed off the phone and got outside, pacing and frantically looking at the clock. Once we got back inside, I'd still need to wrap up the conversation and then get on the road. Luckily I'd built in all that extra time!

I end up dashing back upstairs, finishing up and racing out of the building, with coats and papers and bags like something out of a sitcom - dropping things and fumbling around. I get into my car at noon and feel a little calmer. Still plenty of time. I drive along, with everything going perfectly smoothly. I'd made it through the tricky part.

As I was nearing my exit off the highway - about 3 miles - my heart sank. Up ahead there it was - a big fat wall of brake lights. I come to a complete stop. Then began to inch along. A baby could crawl faster than this traffic was moving. My frustrated thoughts were then interrupted by the ping of my gas light coming on (seriously, I am not making this stuff up). The universe seems to be against me getting there on time. I was going to miss the parade. After all this. I had done everything I could to do my best to get there and in the end, some stupid traffic accident (no offense to the people who suffered through that) and potentially an empty gas tank (I swear there was plenty of gas when I left for work that morning! someone must have siphoned it from the tank!) were keeping me just a few miles away from my little girl. But just when I had given up all hope - I could see the lanes going down from 4 to 2 - if it was close enough to see perhaps it wouldn't take as long as I thought. After some quick inner dialogue about whether you can drive with your gas light on for 20 miles or with the car running for 20 minutes, I decided that if I made it out of this traffic in reasonable time I'd just have to chance it.

When I did finally get past the blocked section it was 12:38. I am not really one to drive like a complete maniac ordinarily, but I must say that in this case I really did. I sputtered onto the street of Elise's school at 12:44. The street was completely packed with cars of other (more prompt) parents so I turned off on the first side street, found the first spot I could, jumped out of the car and ran. I am not a runner - particularly in boots with a 3 inch heel - but I ran as fast as my out-of-shape legs would take me. When I got around to the back of the school, (about 4 blocks from my parking spot) I came to a screeching halt at the crowd of parents and looked around frantically for my little batgirl. Panting, legs shaking, heart racing.

And then I spot her and wave like an insane person to get her attention. She bursts into a huge smile "Mommy!' she is so excited to see me as she parades past. All of the stress and emotions I have gone through in the past 60 minutes, I can't help but burst into tears like a fool. I am sure the other parents thought I was the most ridiculously sentimental mom ever. So I quickly get it together. The parade of costumed kindergartners makes its way back into the building and I give one final wave and blow kisses as she disappears into the school. I look at the time. 12:54. My legs are still shaking. But I made it. I made it.

Now, I guess I should figure out where the closest gas station is...