I begged for help from more friends in the last two weeks than ever. And I detest asking for help.
Help! Hubby is out of town, can you share church nursery duty with me?
Help! Son1 jammed his bathroom door closed with an open bathroom drawer. The only way in is through the second story window, unless you can pry the door open! (The door got pryed open.)
Help! Son2 threw up all night! Can you take Son1 to school for me? (Same person that climbed through my bathroom window.)
And I kept thinking to myself...it's just not as bad as when Son1 had Rotovirus and it came out both ends for seven days and Hubby was traveling. A fleeting thought...
My van door jammed shut one day. The power function went out. Crouched over, I carried Son2,from one side of the van to the other to get him in and out, for nearly two weeks. Between two ill children, I didn't make it to the dealership to get the door fixed.
Ghosts and monsters conveniently appeared in Son1's room at bedtime (taking me nearly 2 hours to get him down because he kept getting up) and again in the wee hours of the morning. They showed up every night, starting the night Hubby left. I was sleep deprived.
One of my kid's treated me to a traumatic trip to the ER. But I couldn't see asking for help, because hadn't I already over-asked everyone? I couldn't find my cell, so I used my house phone to dial my cell phone. Wait! I dialed another number than mine. I hung up on half a ring. Well, that was the phone call that saved my sanity. She called back. I explained what happened. She had been a fleeting thought through my mind as I was dialing my cell, and I dialed her instead. Well all the glory goes to God on my misdial because the short of the long story is her mother met me at the hospital and took the other child, his car seat, and his stuff to her house. The incident could have been it's own blog post, but just know that everyone is fine, and I am too exhausted to tell you.
The safety inspector failed me for a chip in my windshield that I had filled in 2003 or 2004. The guy that checked me in at the car store called me ten minutes after I left. Didn't he say it was going to be 45 minutes? I would not have moved from the store for a ten minute wait. I had just crossed a busy street with fussy Son2 in his stroller, and a death grip on squirmy Son1. I stood at a grocery store rationalizing why it was OK to pay $8.29 for a gallon of milk at this point in life when my phone rang. Let's just say the inspector was the straw, you know the straw, the one that made me just snap.
Oh and one more very important piece of information. In the midst of all of the drama, mishaps, asking tons of people for help, ER visit, and illness I chose to go on the South Beach Diet. Let me tell you I wasn't exactly craving protein or veggies right then. Oooh I would have died for a milkshake. Or a bowl of ice cream. Or a pizza, and I don't even love pizza. But I could have loved it at that moment.
"Let me get this straight," I said over wails from a preschooler pleading for a beverage. "Unless I produce a receipt for the filled crack in my windshield, I have to refill a FILLED crack in order to pass inspection?!?"
"Well, that's why I asked you if you had any chips in your windows that would cause you to fail inspection."
"And I said NO because my car passed inspection on the island with a FILLED crack in 2005, 2006, and 2007. I had that crack filled in Virginia. This never happened on the island!"
I was at my limit. He wasn't going to let up and neither was I. Wouldn't I like to just come back to the store and speak to the inspector? Boy, would I, even if it meant leaving the store without milk. More wails from my preschooler as I held his wrist and marched back across the busy road, to the store, past the open car bays, where I swore the mechanics were chuckling at me. I waited patiently for the inspector, and gave Son1 a firm warning to behave himself. Mommy was going to talk to a man and I was not happy. He needed to be very good while I talked to this man.
I was whisked out to my car, parked on the hot black asphalt with two thirsty children. Now remember, I live in the tropics, when I say HOT BLACK ASPHALT I mean steaming HOT. So the belligerent inspector told me all my other inspections had been illegal. And I looked at him and said you are a G**dy**r store, and the last place I had it done was a Go*dy**r store, are you saying your own company does illegal inspections? If they passed this car, YES. AAAAGGGGGHHHH!!! I thought. I took one dramatic pause, stared at him, and slowly let my next words come out for their full impact. "Do you have kids?" He nodded. He had two little ones, like mine. "Well, I completely know you don't care how I am feeling right now, but let me explain something to you. My husband is off island, and I just dragged my two thirsty children here for an overdue inspection. Do you think I would have done that if I thought my vehicle was going to fail inspection? I DON'T HAVE THE RECEIPT. It is in a landfill in Virginia somewhere. Are you telling me that now I am going to have to MAKE THESE KIDS WAIT and PAY to refill a filled crack and PAY for my inspection?!?" He knew I was not going to retreat. I was not going to leave. This was unacceptable. I was hungry. I was sleep deprived. "Well, I can let you speak to the other inspector, and we can see what he says." Now did he think I thought the other inspector was going to disagree with him? He agreed he would not. At this point, I didn't care. Sure, I wanted to share my frustration, all over again.
What transpired is too long to post. This is getting too long. The end of the sweet story is that the other inspector was the store manager. But I was too carb crazy and delirious from fatigue to notice his name tag. He took pity on me. He gave me my inspection sticker. He all but hugged me, but I just let him shake my hand, which is less common on the island. Hugs are more cultural. Oooh I just was so grateful.
But I am human, and quickly I forgot the positives of the two weeks. And I was tired. I was feeling over-extended. And at the end of my two weeks alone, I remember wondering when things would get better. No one was there to help. I pulled out of my culdesac onto my cross street, and my thoughts were interrupted at the stop sign. I had looked right; no traffic. I looked left, and breathed out in wonder. A peace came over me, and I knew I was not alone. I knew where my help would come from.

On the way down the hill, I saw an absolutely magnificent sunset, with rays blasting through the clouds. I thought to go back a couple blocks to my house, where I could park, and perhaps find an unobstructed view for a photo. But what I found was better. 
I will lift up my eyes to the mountains;
From where shall my help come?
My help comes from the LORD,
Who made heaven and earth.
He will not allow your foot to slip;
He who keeps you will not slumber.
Behold, He who keeps Israel
Will neither slumber nor sleep.
The LORD is your keeper;
The LORD is your shade on your right hand.
The sun will not smite you by day,
Nor the moon by night.
The LORD will protect you from all evil;
He will keep your soul.
The LORD will guard your going out and your coming in
From this time forth and forever.

Well, all good visits must come to an end. On Grandma T. and