Monday: One week ago, today, I was counting down the days until the next holiday, bracing myself for another four weeks of work and school, when I found out that one of the mothers of the children in my care lost her job, and another went on permanent disability.
In the matter of hours, I was down to two kids, and one of them only comes sporadically. Egad. We’re talking $2/hour.
Tuesday: I got a job offer teaching at a private school. It’s only 12 hours a week, but it will pay enough to keep the lights on. (Probably.)
I listed my playground equipment and baby furniture on Craigslist. They sold by Wednesday.
By Thursday I was scrubbing walls and pulling out my fridge to seek stray Legos and half-eaten cookies. A friend of a friend let yet another friend know we might want to rent out our daycare area as a studio apartment soon. They called Thursday afternoon.
Seeing as how I’m broke, I told them they could move in Monday. How hard can it be to clean out one, 600 square foot apartment, right? (Ha!)
Five o’clock on Friday evening found me, zombie-like, sitting in my first class of the semester, somewhat gritty and smelling strongly of Pine-sol.
Saturday, I stopped into Lowes after class let out, and picked up supplies to tile the backsplash I never got around to installing for myself.
Sunday was a bit of a blur. I’m pretty sure I put a twenty-two pound turkey in the oven and made some kind of bread for dinner. Taught my Sunday class outside on the lawn. It involved sugar cookies, blindfolds and lots of sprinkles. Good lesson, actually, I’m sorry you missed it.
This morning I was madly trying to finish the cleaning, patching, grouting, painting, plumbing, etc, by my noon deadline.
When a car pulled into my driveway.
I recognize this lady from years ago when I got in trouble for playing with the kids in the front yard, instead of inside the fence.
She comes up to the porch and introduces herself as my new licensor. Here for a monitor visit.
As in she wants to hang out and see how things are going, scrutinize my records, my toilet, the innards of my fridge, and how the children interact with one another and myself.
You have no idea how good it felt to tell her I was no longer in business.
She wanted me to hand over my license, right then and there. Which does not expire for another year and a half, thank you.
I told her it was in a box somewhere.
We eyed one another with pleasant smiles.
What’s she going to do if I don’t go dig it out? Revoke my license?
Truly, all things shall work together for our good, no? I can see the hand of God in my life–from the way all the kids quit the same week, the timing of this monitor visit, the teaching job, and the arrival of these renters out of the blue.
It was a good day. And not just because I got to take my own children to school registration and to pick out school supplies. And make cookies. In the middle of the day.
It’s going to be a great semester, too.
(For those of you who knew us like this: