Home » Maniacs, Mindfulness, And A Roof Rack

Maniacs, Mindfulness, And A Roof Rack

A few weeks ago I emailed our Pediatrician because I was still concerned about the condition of Teddy’s skin.  If you recall, we switched up his formula and were using a prescription hydrocortisone cream but he wasn’t making the sort of improvement I expected.

Predictably, the Doctor, sent a response saying she’d like to see him the next day.

Of course I didn’t get the response until after office hours so bright and early the following morning I made the latest appointment I could get and desperately prayed Chris could get home in time BECAUSE if Chris didn’t get home, that meant I’d have to take Mac with us.

And ain’t nobody wants to take Mac to the Doctor.  He’s a MANIAC.  There’s no reasoning with him.  He doesn’t care if the visit isn’t about HIM.  He doesn’t care about my attempts at bribery for compliant behavior.  We merely get near the building and he goes into a blind rage.

Anyway, Chris said he could leave work in plenty of time for me to take just Teddy.


We all had a nice morning and Mac took is regularly scheduled nap.

I did some chores and was making a salad when it occurred to me that perhaps Chris should have been home at least 20 minutes prior.

I wiped my hands and checked my phone.

Chris had texted me about an hour before saying something was wrong with one of his tires and he had to change it.

“Shit,” I mumbled to myself checking the time and instantly breaking into a sweat.

I was going to have to get Mac out of a sound sleep, get him dressed, and then drag him into the Doctor’s office.  All in 15 minutes.  This was not going to go well.  I’d be lucky to survive.

I went flying up the stairs with his clothes in hand and Teddy attached to me in the Sleepy Wrap.  Teddy still strapped to my chest, I crawled around on Mac’s bed very gingerly attempting to undress and redress him while he was still half asleep.

He didn’t resist.

Then I said a silent prayer and announced in my happiest voice that it was “Time to get in Mommy’s car!”

He rubbed his eyes, stretched his entire body, and eyed me suspiciously.

Please, please, please just go along with it kid.  Please don’t ask where we’re going.  Please don’t ask where Daddy is.  

“Hopsen out of beddy!” He said in a sing song voice.

“Yes! Please hops out!  We’ve gotta hurry and get in Mommy’s car!”

Stomach in knots, I grabbed the back pack and ushered Mac out the door.

How will I possibly contain Mac and juggle Teddy while the Doctor checks him out?  I cannot believe my luck.  I’m doomed!

And then, just as we were preparing to cross the street to get in the car, who should drive up but DADDY!  Daddy saved the day!

I wiped the sweat from my forehead and shouted at Mac, “Who’s that?”

“It’s Daddy!” Mac squealed.

Chris took Mac back in the house, leaving me to frantically fumble around with the backpack and Teddy.  I looked at my phone.  We were dangerously close to being late.  And our Doctor does NOT tolerate tardiness.

Please don’t let there be any more problems.  Please.

Things in order, I headed to the Doctor’s office.

But you know how you get a feeling?  Just a feeling that something is off or you’re forgetting something?

A block from the house I had that feeling.  At the stop light I checked the backpack for my wallet.  All good there.


Two more blocks of nagging uneasiness. . .

PHONE!  My phone wasn’t in the little center slot/console thing I typically put it in when I get in the car.

I began searching the back pack.  Then the front seat.  At the next light the floor.

Did I leave it in the car seat with Teddy somehow?  Chris is going to be so irked if you lost that phone.  YOU NEED TO BACK UP YOUR DAMNED PHONE, WOMAN!  All those photos and stuff will be lost!

It’s in the backpack.  It HAS to be.

Three more stop signs and I had completely emptied the back pack of all its contents.  No phone.

And then I started to have the sickening feeling that I left it on the roof of the car.

This is a bad habit I developed when I had to start loading two kids in the car.  I’ve started putting stuff on the roof of the car to free up a hand to get the doors opened and the kids loaded.  As an aside, they really need to put pockets in yoga pants.  


No worries, Deni.  It’s probably just on our street practically in front of the house.  You can just call Chris and ask him to go outside and grab it.


What do I do?  Do I turn back and attempt to locate the $500 phone and risk being banned from the Doctor’s office because I’m late?  Phone or pediatrician?  Which option is going to piss Chris off least?  

See?  This is what happens when you’re always in a damned hurry or panic.  I have got to slow down.  I race around all day like a MANIAC.  I don’t think I’ve even EATEN yet today and it’s 3:15.  I’ve been awake since 5:30AM. . .I think this is possibly the first time I’ve sat down. . .and it’s to drive!

I was approaching a traffic light a Boston and Potomac – closer to the Doctor’s office than our house.  My hands were trembling as I reached for my coffee at the red light.

Hey, you previously smart and resourceful girl, why don’t you just very quickly step out of the car and see if by some miracle the phone is still on the roof?  The light’s red anyway. . .

And there, wedged under the roof rack just above the driver’s side door was my phone, safe and sound.

I snatched it up and smiled sheepishly at the car behind me.  I have never been more thankful to have a mom-car complete with a roof rack.

As I rushed us into the Doctor’s office I promised myself I’d be more MINDFUL.

Yet after the appointment, I found myself rushing to get Teddy home because I knew he was hungry. . .

And I’ll be damned if I didn’t immediately flop the phone on the roof of the car!

What can I say?  I’m evidently a maniac. . .