Tuesday

I really am this busy. I was going to blog all this stuff I have been saving up for a time, but my life has resembled that of a factory assembly line moving way too fast to accomplish any one task at hand.
Yesterday I was having a bad day. The only good that came out of it was really hearing the good news about my sweet niece getting tests results that were in her favor.
I was going along, plugging away. Even though things seemed to stress me out more as the day was getting older I kept going. That was my clue. I never know when to stop.

I had finally reached the home stretch. I was on my way to pick Jacob up from work, and go home for a nice dinner and relaxing Television. That is when I heard a HOOOOOOOOOOOOONK and then a sudden ::THUD:: . I looked over to see a white van that had come too close to my van and obviously I had my first wreck. I was surprised by not only the wreck but by the sudden action I took in such a mishap. Those that know me would assume that I would either flap my hands around my face uncontrollably, have tears rolling down my face, take on the fetal position, or laugh like a maniac and drive away. Instead, I immediately pulled ahead, got my phone, dialed Jacob's number as I was walking towards to woman behind me, and calmly but pointedly told her how she was clearly in the wrong by pulling out in a place that is not a turn lane, and did she see what that is right there?? NOT a turn lane. Then I told her I would check for damage on my vehicle and come right back. I did all of this before Jacob could say "hello".

Me: "Hey. I'm at the corner of Chisholm and Cox Creek. A lady just hit me. I don't see any damage. I will be late picking you up and will call you back, OKAY?!?!"

Jacob: "whoah, okay.. yeah"

So I go back and tell the visibly shaken woman that there is no damage, and if anything she probably just bumped my mirror. She says she must have hit my tire because she points to all this dark rubber on her white van. She is wiping it away with a baby wipe. It's coming off easily, and for the first time since I stepped out of the car, I relax a little bit. I look around at the rain, the passing cars, how dark it is getting. The other woman is wearing a light grey wraparound knitted jacket. It looks cozy.
Then I look at her window and see the M.O.P.S. sticker on her window. I can only imagine my face, but I say, very slowly.. "are you an Early Arts mom??" She seems even more visibly shaken that I asked her this question, as if Early Arts moms surely aren't making mistakes out here in their super mom vans. She stutters but seems to get out that she is an Early Arts mom and she is head of the MOPS. (Mothers of Pre-Schoolers)
I tell her, as we walk back to my van to check for damage yet again that my children go to Early Arts as well, and open the van door to introduce her to Madeline and Lily. She gets comfortable and tells me that her son Henry is in Lily's class. This is the funny part where I always laugh. My face just froze, and I said "OOHH! HEEENRYY!!! HENRY is the little boy that beats Lily up."

You see, one day Lily came home with a busted chin because HEENRYY pushed her down on the ground. Then a week later, he was swinging a toy around and around in the classroom when Lily just happened to walk by and get smacked in the face by Henry, yet again.

We hugged each other that we were not in a worse accident, and that everything seemed perfect. It was weird that of all the people in Florence driving there that afternoon, we met. The best part was when we were parting and she said "so... Henry hits Lily and I hit you..."