A Slight Detour

The drive to my son's preschool M,W,F each week is a straight shot down the road once I make it onto the main street from our neighborhood. It takes 12 minutes to get there.

Last Friday I loaded up my son and my daughter to make the simple drive. Just on the other side of the first main intersection I cross runs the railroad tracks. Today the bars are lowered. I wait for a minute thinking they'll soon be raised, then notice off to the side that there is a fire truck positioned across the tracks just a few feet down. Strange. Apparently the bars will not be lifting anytime soon.

Making a quick decision I turn right, hatching an alternate route in my mind as I drive. No biggie. I'll jaunt to the right, turn back left at the next through street, take it down a mile then make my way back to the street I was originally on well beyond the train track issue.

Ok, so apparently I found the one and only street that does not go through like every other Phoenix area street does. Navigating through Phoenix neighborhoods is super easy because the city is planned out on a grid. It's nearly impossible to get lost. Somehow though I picked a street that took me directly into an industrial area (again, this is not the norm, especially in my suburban neighborhood) with no outlets. Every turn was into a business parking lot. What?!?! How do I get out of here?

I finally make my way far enough down the road, which has now turned several times, again what happened to my nice little grid? But I do see a main road, at least. It's 1/2 mile farther in the wrong direction than I planned on being, but it's ok, at least I now know how to get out of here and back on track.

Not so lucky.... Bam! A Street Closed sign right there! I can see my destination but can't get there. I have to follow another detour, which of course, takes me the opposite direction I want to be going. There's no other way, it's either back track or get stuck in a dang parking lot (what are all these businesses doing here anyway?).

So, I'm following the detour signs along another curving street (these pop up in the strangest places) and make it to the main road, now a good 2 miles beyond my original detour. But I know where I am. I'm feeling good despite all the craziness when my son says in exasperation "Mom, can you just take me to school please?"

We finally arrive, 15 minutes late and drop him off. He's fine but my daughter is no longer happy in her car seat. She wants out. And I've forgotten her binky so she will not be soothed. She's done with our little excursion and letting me know it. Up goes the radio volume to drown her out.

I figure that the initial railroad/fire truck problem is resolved by now so decide to take the usual route home. On the way back however, I have to pull over to the side of the road not once, but five times because cop cars keep driving past me with flashing lights and sirens. What the heck? Five cop cars all perfectly spaced out so that every time I get back on the road at a decent speed another one comes along forcing me to slow and pull over.

Now I'm starting to look for hidden cameras. This has to be a joke, right? Someone is following me with a video camera laughing their head off, right? I mean we're in passive, slow Gilbert, AZ. This stuff doesn't happen here, at least not all at once.

I have no idea where they're going or what the deal is. Luckily it's not the train tracks. By the time I get there it's cleared and open so I sail through and arrive home. My daughter is still crying and has snot running down her face. Now she won't let go of me so I hold her for the next hour or so as I make valiant attempts to clean and organize one-handed.

I'm tired, I'm frazzled, I'm hungry and it's only 9:30! Coffee!!!!

Click here to subscribe to my FREE newsletter on maintaining happiness and personal fulfillment through the ups and downs of motherhood.