I ran out of work at 4:15 yesterday to pick up LP and bring her to the doctor. Her conjunctivitis did not appear to be clearing up and well, after two days, I kind of missed the doctor's office. By 5:45 we were in Walgreens waiting for her eye drop prescription to be filled. It is unfathomable to me that a 3ML bottle of eye drops costs $50 with my insurance. So far during the month of January we have spent $125 on doctor visits and $90 on prescriptions.
And yet, the hectic part of my day was only beginning. At 6 pm.
As I was trying to check our answering machine messages as I drove to pick up LP, I kept getting this weird message, "We're sorry, your call can not be completed at this time. Please try again later." Thinking maybe my cell phone sucked, I called my parents and had no problem getting through. Hmm...We do have phone service through our cable company so my suspicions were raised about a potential power outage.
Regardless, as stated in my opening paragraph I had other things to worry about.
After finishing up at the pharmacy I was pleased to note that there were lights along the main road. Then I turned into my neighborhood. PITCH FREAKING BLACK. And when I say black - I mean really dark. No lights for about a 4 block radius. It is now about 6:15. I have no diaper bag, no idea where flashlights are in my house, and a little munchkin with hunger pains and puffy red eyes in need of eye drops. Oh, and the Hoos is at an event for work and NOT ANSWERING HIS CELL PHONE. Not like he could have done much, he drove to the event with a bunch of other people and there isn't much assistance he could provide from Hartford, but still, I wanted someone to commiserate with me.
Holding out hope that the power will come back on soon, LP and I drive to that kid mecca, McDonalds, instead of working our way into the house. I would like to try to operate in the dark as little as possible. We kill an hour in McDonalds with other blackout refugees and attempt to call our local family, none of which answer their cell or home phones. Actually, my sister-in-law is the only one that answers her phone, but she is at work so she can't really offer any assistance.
We return to our electricity-free home. I am thrilled to remember that I put a battery operated "tap light" inside the house by the back door when we moved in to offer light in the event we get home late and don't leave any lights on. I tap it and both LP and I giggle with excitement when it pops on. I then attempt to remove it from the wall. It falls and the batteries scatter all over the back steps. Crap.
Toddler and I manage to make our way into the house, locate candles and light them. We then try to use a candle to recover the batteries for the tap light so we can have something a little less dangerous to light our way. (For the next five minutes LP periodically yells out "batt'ries" and "Amen" - though not really in conjunction with one another). As yet another aside, it is REALLY REALLY HARD to change a poopy diaper in the dark. I did it, but it took a while, especially since LP insisted on holding the tap light during the process, and dropping it, causing the batt'ries to fall out again.
About a half hour later we try my in-laws again and they have returned home from their outing. Hallelujah! LP and I pack stuff up in the dark and head out for the 20 minute drive to their home. On our way there my phone rings, both the Hoos and my brother-in-law call me back to see why I am stalking them via cell phone. Growl.
After slipping LP into the bath at my in-laws (and noticing that she has diaper rash from walking around with a dirty diaper for who-knows how long), I call home and our phone actually rings. Power has been restored. It is 8:45. By 9:15 we are home, LP is sleeping and I am trying to think of a good reason not to want to injure the Hoos. Of course, it doesn't take long to remember that I need him: LP can't go to school today because of the conjunctivitis so I need him to stay home with her in the morning while I get some work done. Lucky man.