Thursday, August 18, 2011

'You are now off track' - Is the Universe trying to speak to me through my GPS?

Last week I had a morning that had me wishing for a fast forward button to Wine O'Clock.

(cell phone alarm song)
It was far too early . . .
Hit snooze one too many times.
Jumped out of bed like I was on fire.
Did the 5 Minute makeup routine and got dressed.
Packed The Chicklet's travel bag.
Spent far too much time trying to coax The Chicklet to eat something for breakfast.
Wrangled a sleepy Chicklet (who inherited my lack of enthusiasm for the morning).
Dressed her nicely and fixed her hair in record time.

And we drove off......Whew!

Debated the accuracy of the Google Maps directions and turned on my phone's GPS system.
Feeling okay....a little time to spare even with alternate directions

And then it happened.

'Mummy, I don't feel good'. (insert vomit sounds here)
I could not turn around fast enough and my brain froze as I watched her erupt like Mt. Vesuvius all over her dress.
We pulled over, and the GPS said 'you are now off track'; I stripped her down in a parking lot, and tried to clean her car seat as much as possible.

Me:         'I guess we should just go home.  We can reschedule it all.'
Hubby:    'We can at least drop the paperwork off, let's still go.'
Chicklet:  'I need clothes!  I want a dress!' 'I NEED A DRESS!!!'

It now dawned on me, that we left the house without a change of clothes.
Probably for the first time ever.

* Side note:  I always over pack for The Chicklet.  From the day she came home from the hospital, I have packed efficiently for multiple possibilities on how her day may go, regardless of where we are traveling.  I have been picked on relentlessly by friends and family; but the truth is, I am almost always prepared, and rarely have to deal with an uncomfortable, bored or hungry child as a result.  Happy baby = happy Mummy.  Happy wife = happy life.  Words to live by my friends . . . words to live by.

Time to pop into Mummy McGuyver mode . . .

My husband found a clean t-shirt in his gym bag.  I gave The Chicklet a wet wipe bath, threw the t-shirt on her and quickly fixed her hair.
She protested the fact she was swimming in the t-shirt but was packed back into her car seat anyway.

We start off again, the GPS lady said 'you are now on track'; and miraculously make it to our destination with 10 minutes to spare.
I grabbed the packet to drop off and make a last minute decision to bring The Chicklet in with me.

I carried her and rushed in.  The receptionist ushered us into the room much quicker than expected (did we smell and they did not want to offend the others?), and I felt utterly frazzled.
Like a true McGuyver Mummy, I fashioned her t-shirt into an'80's style dress, kissed her lips so she had a little gloss on them (pure adrenaline kept me from noticing the lingering smell of vomit on her lips), and wiped some fresh scented lotion on her body.  Praying nobody will notice she is dressed and smelled like a mini Madonna after a night on the town.

As I stood in line, I suddenly hear a voice.....

People turn around and look at me

What?  Who?  When?  How?  Where?
I finally realized the voice was coming from my bag.
It's my phone!  I never turned the GPS off!!!!

I suddenly wonder, is the Universe speaking to me through my GPS?
As if to say, okay lady, scheduling this early in the morning,
giving you inaccurate directions and having your child vomit all over herself was not enough of a clue?
I see I cannot be vague with you.
So here it is dummy, YOU ARE NOW OFF TRACK!

Holy crap!  Is this God speaking to me via cell phone???  Should I call the Vatican?
I am positive my eyes were bugging out of my head as I contemplated the meaning behind this declaration.

I turned the GPS off and after handing the paperwork over, was told we were sent in with the wrong group.  I need to go back out and come in with the next group.

Ah, so the GPS lady was right . . .  I was indeed off track.

Now if I can only get my GPS to tell me 'IT'S WINE O'CLOCK NOW", I will be all set.

Until then, I eagerly await my next message from the Universe,
via my phone's GPS.

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