Aliyah turned 15 months yesterday, so today she had a check up with the doctor. After breakfast and getting dressed we headed out to see Dr. Dorsey. All went well at the appointment and soon we were off to meet some friends at SAM's Club.
After SAM's club we made one more quick stop and headed home. About a mile before we were to exit the interstate, the van began sputtering. I knew instantly what was wrong: we were running out of gas. I also knew that we weren't very close to a gas station. I slowed down, cut the air conditioner (much to the chagrin of my passengers), and started praying that God would somehow miraculously get us to a gas station. All the while I prayed, I was very aware that our exit was a steep uphill. Not good for an out-of-gas van. As I predicted would happen, yet hoped beyond all hope it wouldn't, the car died halfway up the exit ramp. Thankfully, the exit ramp had a wide shoulder that allowed us to pull over to avoid stopping traffic or being hit from behind.
You may be wondering how in the world I could run out of gas. Doesn't our car have a gas gauge? Doesn't our car have a light that comes on when you're low? Doesn't our car have a delightful little beeping noise to alert you that you are low on gas? The answer to all of these questions is an undeniable YES. How, then, could I run out of gas?
Well, it really all goes back to our GPS. You see, I have a love/hate relationship with our GPS (it was a generous gift from my loving husband two Christmases ago, and one I sometimes love and often hate! Sorry, honey.). The GPS is involved in this story because it sits on our dashboard, anchored directly in front of our gas gauge. Unless you reach around the GPS, you cannot see the gas gauge. It's easy to see after the events of the day unfolded as they did, how smart it would have been to NOT have the GPS mounted in front of the gas gauge, but alas, I'm not so smart sometimes. I will also say that as soon as the car started sputtering, I immediately knew what was wrong because I had heard the gas gauge beep yesterday, but that was a long time ago, and I had, of course forgotten all about it, previous to the aforementioned dreaded moment.
So, what's a mom to do sitting on the side of the exit ramp, with three kids, on a very hot day, and no gas in her car. I, of course, called my husband. I knew he would be helpful. He was after all, an hour away by train and working, not really set up for helping me out of my disaster, but he's smart and he always knows what to do, surely he could save us. His advice was to call someone to come help us or walk to a gas station. Not really what I wanted to hear since I'd already thought of those two options. After considering everyone we knew had children napping, lived far away, and that it would be an hour or more in the hot, getting hotter by the second, car before they came, I decided to fire up my beloved (see I do like it) GPS to see how far we were from a gas station. I thought since it was its fault we were in this pickle, it could help get us out. Turned out, according to the GPS, we were a mere mile from the nearest station. Well, that's unpleasant, but I thought doable, anyway.
So, with the GPS directions (I love you GPS!) cemented in my mind and all three girls loaded in the double stroller, we set off on foot to get some gas for our van. We arrived at Seven Locks Road after a few minutes of walking. The GPS did not have a direction to turn on Seven Locks Road, it just said to continue on Seven Locks Road (have I mentioned my great distaste of the GPS?). So, I guessed. I will admit that my decision to turn right was heavily influenced by the rather large and steep hill that happened to be to my left. Surely no gas station would be up the hill. Yes, downhill is so much more appealing! After walking a block on Seven Locks Road, we ran into two ladies walking. I asked them if there were any gas stations on this road. They responded that there was one in the direction we were headed, but it was really, really far down the road, maybe three miles. Not good news. I asked them if there was one in the opposite direction and they indicated that there was one maybe 1.5 miles away.
At this point, as we were turning around, I did give into some brief tears. The gas station appeared to be further than my GPS (grrrrr!) indicated AND I had to climb that monstrous hill pushing the double stroller loaded down with three kids. In the moment, it was too much.
I soon recovered from my moment and began the arduous journey up the hill. Halfway up the hill I made Xandra get out of the stroller, it was just toooo heavy for this 5 1/2 month pregnant lady in 90 degree heat. Xandra and Theia took turns walking and riding and sometimes both of them road squished together in the stroller. Theia whined incessantly, sometimes with words about how she wanted water, and sometimes just with whimpers. Xandra decided 2/3 of the way there that she had to go potty badly and continually insisted that she go pee pee in someones yard. Liyah, who had been asleep in the car when I ran out of gas, cried, whined, and sucked her fingers all of the way to the gas station.
After about an hour, and according to walkjogrun.net, 1.58 miles later, we arrived at the most blessed Sunoco I've ever seen. We got some water, bought a sleeve of Ritz crackers for $2.19, and a shiny, red, new gas can for $8.99, used the restroom, cooled off a bit in the gas station, and filled our one-gallon gas can to the brim. After paying them nearly $20.00 to get our gas and snack (feel free to poke your eyeballs, I did!), we turned around to make the trek back to the car. The girls guzzled the water and ate the crackers and were generally much, much happier on the way back to the van than they had been on the way to the gas station (possibly worth the $20).
We arrived back at the car with our precious gallon of gas. It took me probably five minutes to figure out how to get the gas out of the new-fangled gas can. Why do they have to make it so sophisticated. Don't they know the people buying those things are in distress? I can't be expected to use my brain after all of this, can I? The real moment of panic came when I spilled a few drops of gasoline on the pavement. I actually thought to myself, "If I spill the gas and don't get it in the tank, I'm going to sit down and just give up." Thankfully, aside from the few drops, the gas went in the tank and the car immediately started. As I was putting the girls back in the car, one by one, a nice lady in a blue minivan pulled up to ask me if I needed some help. Where was that lady two hours before? I assured her all was well now and thanked her for her offer of assistance.
When I got behind the steering wheel, the clock said 3:47. I remember seeing 1:32 on the clock as I was getting out of the car to load kids into the stroller. My father-in-law always says education is expensive. I do believe after 2 hours and 15 minutes and $20.00 for a gallon of gas, he is correct.
We made it safely into the driveway at 4:15, after stopping for gas and waiting in a lot of rush hour traffic. I think all three girls were asleep 15 minutes later. Not the ideal naptime, but after a day like today, we can make an exception. I was happy for the quiet break to rest and shower.
We ended the day with all three girls in the bathtub. At one point, as I entered the bathroom, Xandra said, "Aliyah's a strawberry girl (she had strawberries for dinner), there's strawberries, there's food in the bathtub." I replied, "Everybody out. That's not food, that's poop." Can you believe the day ended with Aliyah pooping in the bathtub? I'm not kidding, I wish I were.
After two baths, clean jammies, and clean sheets, everyone's finally asleep.
As much as I hope a day like today never happens again, I know that amidst tough days I have so much for which to be thankful. Three beautiful girls, a nice, quiet home to rest in, a loving husband, and a God who protected us today in ways we will not see this side of heaven. He also gives us a sense of humor to laugh at ourselves and the unbelievable messes we find ourselves in when we're pregnant, forgetful, and just generally disaster-laden. Thanks, God, for difficult days, it makes the easy ones that much sweeter.
