Early to Rise

No way did I expect to be up and out by 9:20 this Saturday morning ─ my scheduled indoor activity day.

But it happened.

Not because I wanted it to, but because it had to happen.

In a custody dispute ─ seeking full custody to remove his 12-year-0ld daughter from a horrendous situation involving her stepfather, with mom calling her a liar, Trainer asked that Thursday’s workout be moved to Friday.

“Sure, I’m flexible” said I.

Then, on Friday, as I was suiting up for the rescheduled workout, I get a message Trainer is now stuck in court, filing paperwork, can I reschedule to 9:30 this morning, Saturday.

Having had the sole responsibility of raising twin daughters, after divorcing their father, Trainer’s plight took me back to all the times my work life was turned upside down ─ one or the other twin was ill or Twin 1 was misbehaving at school (parent/teacher conference), Twin 2 was getting bullied or beat up at school (parent/principal sit-down) or there was a school event one or the other wanted me to attend, plus a myriad of other things necessitating my coming in late to work, leave early, take a vacation day, and how difficult it was for employers to understand. 

It was difficult for the twins to understand as well.

I didn't get much help and support from them. In fact, they seemed to resent my not being there for them 24/7, saying once they wished I was like the neighbor lady who was home all-day making cookies. I said I could do that as well but, with me not working, we’d go hungry and end up homeless. I also pointed out how ill-prepared for real life the neighbor lady’s children were because she so controlled their every action, whereas they (my girls) were allowed to do this that and the other.

That was my life as a single parent to girls coming into their own, not understanding their words and actions were sometimes making an already tough job even tougher and often threatened loss of that which enabled me to feed, clothe them, keep a roof over our heads. (Their father was not in the picture during those hard years. I was still in hiding from him.)

My own history making me sympathetic to Trainer’s position, knowing this is just the tip of the iceberg in what he’s about to experience in raising a daughter ─ soon to be a teenager, my reply of course was “No problem. Good luck” BUT 9:30? 

I’m generally an early riser, but I don’t get ready to deal with outside until around 10:30/11:00.

On the other hand, this morning was good practice for when I start participating in 5Ks again, as most races necessitate being on-site by 6:30, which means up, dressed, fed and on the road sometimes by 4:00 in the morning.

At any rate, Trainer is having to shuffle more than just me around. His evening after-work client was on her way out when I walked in this morning and, inasmuch as the courts are putting him through hoops to get his daughter, my schedule of Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, 11:45, is in jeopardy. Until all is said and done, days may be shifted around, hours may change and he says training might be as late as 7:00 pm.

I don’t mind.

And while we’re on the subject of the trials and tribulations of child rearing ... I was quite impressed with myself when, on Thursday, Twin 1 messaged there’s an outbreak of measles on Skid Row — where she and her group of volunteers go on weekends to provide services for the homeless. 

She was fairly certain she’d been vaccinated as a child but wanted to hear me say for sure “Yes, you’ve been vaccinated”.

I did her one better.

It took mere seconds to pull her Immunization Record from 1967, take a snapshot indicating she and her twin had been immunized at 10 months old, and message the photo to her.

I was terribly impressed with my ability to ferret out the documentation so quickly, expecting to hear back “WOW mom! This is impressive. You not only kept our original immunization record, but knew where it was and retrieved so quickly”. Instead I got “Thanks”.

Maybe it’s not such a remarkable feat after all. Maybe all mothers are like me in that I don’t know what I did with the eyeglasses I had in my hands a few seconds ago, but know where 51-year-old baby documents are located.

Twin 1 and Twin 2 went out and got booster shots the next day.

I’m thinking maybe I should do the same before someone, or their unvaccinated grandchild or great grandchild, brings measles into this complex.