Today was most definitely a Monday. And someone somewhere who has a sick sense of humor decided to throw me not one, but two additional balls to juggle. And I gotta say, I'm running short a few arms. So I'm gonna bitch for a minute. Because, as I understand it, that's the basic premise behind blogging.
1. Apparently, my pastor is gone. I don't know if she left the church voluntarily or under some sort of pressure. I do know that there had been lots of tension (over what, I honestly could never figure out), and she had considered leaving before. But now, she's gone. There's no trace of her on the church's Web site and I got an e-mail today about painting the new parsonage (which I didn't know we had) to welcome the new pastor(s) (whom I've never heard of).
Obviously, I haven't been able to attend service is a couple of months. Caroline's naps and Todd's open houses have conspired against me. I'm disturbed that she's gone and even more disturbed that I don't know why. I really felt like I had found a home there, and now, I don't know.
I guess the whole thing just leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I used to feel like it was a place of acceptance, but now it feels like a place where they run folks off for disagreeing.
I understand, though, that it was likely a moot point for the next few years anyway, since the cabin is too far away to continue going there.
Still. Gah.
2. This is the real zinger.
I went to pick up Hannah this afternoon from Mrs. Barbara's Academy of Stay Out of Our Hair. I love, love, love Mrs. Barbara. She's run a daycare that really functions as more of a preschool out of her house for something like 16 years now. She loves Hannah and treats her like a true individual. She's flexible, kind, patient, and affordable. We're willing to drive a lengthy commute to let Hannah continue going there after the move.
Today, when I picked her up, Mrs. Barbara waited for another parent to leave and then told me she needed to talk. Again, that sick feeling rose up in my belly. For a second I thought she was going to say Hannah had done something terrible and wouldn't be allowed back. I quickly dismissed the thought, but got even more worried when she prefaced her comments by saying she'd waited to talk to me because of all the stress we've been under.
The short of it is this: She's closing the school. At the end of August. I have two months to move Hannah and then find her another caregiver.
I cried. Even though I completely understand her motivation. They're selling their home and moving in with her Mother-in-law to help her renovate the family home and take care of her. She's been doing daycare for a long time and though she loves it, she's tired and needs a break.
What I need is some wine.
Gah! And gah! And GAHHHHHHH!
