Dad's In Charge

     
For the past 7 and a half years, I have worked VERY party time at a museum. I only work one Saturday a month for a 4 hour shift. It's not even a real job, it's more like a hobby. Once a month, I dress up and give tours and act like I know things.

The museum has been very short staffed lately and I was asked if I could work some all-day shifts. Still just once a month, but 7 hours. I'm not working now so I figured I could help out.

I worked a full day the end of August. I had just gone to the grocery store, the house was in order, there were no events scheduled for the kids. It should have been an easy, low-key day for my husband.

I packed my lunch and off I went to the museum. I was only there TWO HOURS when I got a phone call from my daughter, crying and complaining that dad was being mean. She probably refused to clean her room or something. They called me like, 5 times. Asking me shit, telling me random things, complaining that my husband was in a bad mood. I stopped answering my phone. FIGURE IT OUT.

I checked the bank account before I left and saw that my husband spent $36 at McDonalds. I was so annoyed. I had just gone grocery shopping. That's a thing that I do. I check my bank account 3 times a day and I text my husband like, "What did you spend $11.63 on at Office Depot?" Guess how much fun I am to be married to? Not fun at all.

I called my husband on my way home. He sounded cross. "You need to get home and deal with your heathens. I'm over it."
"They are your heathens too."
"Well, you gave birth to them."
"You helped."
"Kinda, not really."
I sighed. "Listen, just heat up the pizza that's in the fridge. I'll be home soon. Please save me two pieces."

By the time I got home, I was exhausted. I am a lady who lunches now - working a 7 hour shift is hard for a woman of my genteel nature.

I walked into the house and everyone was on the couch watching a movie. The house was a wreck, I walked into the kitchen to make myself a plate of pizza. There was a 6 inch hole in my kitchen wall, the breakfast plates were still sitting on the counter and there were crumbs on the pizza stone.

"Hey did you guys save me any pizza?"
They shrugged. "No."

I could feel the rage building up inside of me. Creeping from my chest, up my neck. I took a deep breath and without saying anything - I turned around, walked out the door, got into my car and drove away.
                          
I took myself out to dinner. I sat alone with my book and had a peaceful time. It was just what I needed. Nobody called our texted me. They probably could tell by the look on my face when I left that I was not in the mood.

When I got home, I was in a better place emotionally but I still mourned the fact that I can't leave the house for 7 hours without everything falling apart. My husband is a capable human being-he just needs to step up his game.

Last Saturday was my September shift. I gave my family a pep-talk before I left. "Okay guys- there is mac n cheese and soup for lunch. I went to the grocery store yesterday so we have plenty of snacks. Listen to dad and don't get on his nerves. Don't call me. Dad is in charge." I turned to my husband, "Seriously, please be legit today. Hold it together." He nodded. "I'm on it."

I went to the museum. Three hours later I had a text message from one of my mom-friends. "You let your daughter walk to the corner store? I don't know if I could do that." I didn't know what was happening. "Is she alone?" She texted back, "No, she is with another girl and a boy."

I didn't know how to respond. I wasn't bothered that she was walking down to the corner store with some of her friends. You don't have to cross a busy road to get there, it was in the middle of the day. I was feeling like I should feign concern for the sake of my friend who felt like I SHOULD be concerned.

I didn't want to be judged for NOT being concerned. I considered my text back options. I debated, "Yeah - we're letting our kids raise themselves at this point" or "I'm embracing the new free-range parenting philosophy." Instead I settled for, "I'm working right now so my husband is in charge." I threw my husband under the bus. It was the most honest response I could give and it saved me from having my parenting choices judged.

I thought that would be it for the day. NOPE. Two hours later I get a call from my husband informing me that my oldest daughter was suffering from abdominal pain. Surely, it couldn't have been that bad if she had just walked to the corner store with her friends. I triaged over the phone. "Okay, make her some toast or applesauce for a snack. Make sure she's hydrated. Take her temperature and make sure she doesn't have a fever. Give her some Tylenol. Make her try to use the bathroom. Tell her to take a hot shower and lay down and rest." I gave many options. I was not concerned. He sounded confident that he could get her to settle.

I got another call 2 hours later. "She doesn't have a fever but I gave her medicine and she still is in a lot of pain. She's crying." I sighed. "Look, just take her to urgent care down the street. I'm sure she's fine. I'll be done in about an hour and I'll give you a call."
"Okay."

I called him back at the end of my shift. He sounded defeated, "The doctor at urgent care sent us down to the Children's Hospital. We just got here." Well, that escalated rather quickly. I left work and met them at the ER at the Children's Hospital.

I walked into the triage area. My husband was sitting next to my daughter who was in a wheelchair. She turned to me when I walked in. Her eyes were red, her face puffy and tear stained. I leaned over and kissed her on the top of her head. "It hurts, mom."
"I know, but they are going to fix you all up. It's going to be all right."

They wheeled her to the back and my husband and I followed behind. He handed me the diagnostic report from urgent care. "I can't leave for one day without everything falling apart," I joked.
"Dude! This is not my fault."

She climbed into bed and moaned. She was in a fair amount of pain. Before long, a resident came in. He was young and handsome with dark bags under his eyes. He looked like he needed a nap. He examined my daughter and asked her some questions. Then he turned to us and named all the things that could be causing her abdominal pain. Every horrible thing. I took a deep breath. I was keeping the faith that it was something minor and that they'd figure it out.

"We are going to do some blood work, take her up for an ultrasound and we also have to give her a pregnancy test." He said it in an almost whisper.
                                      
"It's just standard procedure," he said. "Do you have questions for me?"

"Can you give her something for the pain?"
"Yeah, I'll order some morphine."

Well, shit. Let's just go all the way.
                                  
They came and started an IV and administered the morphine. Before long, she was a different person. She was talking non-stop. I tried to talk to my husband and she put her hand up and said, "No. We're not doing that right now. We are paying attention to me. I'm the patient. You talk to each other later." She told us stories about her friends. "Are you going to tell us all of your secrets now?" I asked her.

She turned to me in her drug-induced haze and said, "I don't have secrets from you guys. I tell you everything. You are my BFFs!" I should have gotten that on tape.

They got ready to wheel her to ultrasound. As the nurse pushed her down the hallway, she called out "Wheeee! This is like a roller coaster. Not like a real roller coaster, like the dragon roller coaster at the fair. You know what I'm talking about?"

The ultrasound tech did her thing. We saw all of my daughter's guts. She was amazed. Especially when she saw her kidney. She freaked out.
                      
"MOM! LOOK! It's a bean. There is a bean INSIDE of me!!!!" The ultrasound tech chuckled.

After the ultrasound, we went back to the room and waited for the doctor to come back in. Long story short, she had a kidney infection. They prescribed some antibiotics and sent us on our way.

She was still doped up when she got home. She sat on the couch and spent 20 minutes watching herself raise and lower her eyebrows on her cellphone camera.

The next day I emailed the museum and told them that I could ONLY work morning shifts until further notice. My daughter was much better when she got up in the morning. She didn't remember a thing. I told her that she called us her "BFFs." She looked at me skeptically, "You're lying!"