Utter Chaos

Cleo looked at her calendar for the month. It was one of those giant ones with the big boxes attached to the fridge with magnets that sometimes meant she’d hear crashing in the middle of the night to wake up in the morning to a mess of art by her children, restaurant take out menus and the business cards of people she’d meant to call all over the kitchen floor.

Her calendar was full, and heavy. Both metaphorically and literally.

Jeremiah had just taken up Taekwondo. It was on Monday and Wednesday nights. Caitlyn was in dance class on Tuesday mornings and Thursday evenings. The dog had a “spa” visit this Friday morning, which meant Cleo had to work from home so she could pick her up when the dog groomer felt like calling her.

On a few dates there were reminders to pay such and such bill, or call someone on their birthday, do the laundry, get groceries.

Someone was yelling outside. Cleo was easily distracted and prone to forgetting was she was doing and she turned towards the sound forgetting about the calendar.

Outside her front door, Queen Gwenivere ran by. A small sprightly dog being chased by four children. Gwen had a brilliant habit of getting out and escaping. She’d been doing it for years, and the whole neighbourhood kept a watch out for her.

Cleo opened the front door and yelled, “Gwenny, I’ve got a treat for you!” Queen Gwenivere turned her furry bottom around and came running to Cleo’s door, which was open, and while it was open, Cookie, Cleo’s dog went running right between her legs and out to the children outside.

“I’ll capture yours if you hold mine!” Cleo yelled to the kids.

After a half hour of what would have made a hilarious comedy of errors on Lassi or some other more relevant show about a dog, Cleo and the kids both had their dogs back in the correct houses.

Cleo sighed, and remembered that she’d been looking at the calendar. She went back over to see that she’d managed to miss her doctor’s appointment during the canine fiasco.

There was a text from her partner, and another from Jeremiah and Caitlyn’s father, Don, asking if he was getting Cait from dance, or was she. Oh shit. It was Tuesday, and just like that, her carefully balanced calendar came tumbling off the fridge. She had 20 minutes to get dressed, and run to get her daughter. She didn’t want to be late. Her mother had always been late to come and get her, or she would forget Cleo entirely. At the time she’d felt so very unloved. How could a mother forget her own daughter over and over and over. But now, she got it. Cleo’s life was a tower of badly placed wooden blocks and like in Jenga if someone pulled the right one just so, her life would fall apart. Cleo left the calendar on the floor.

How did everyone else do this?

Cleo texted Don saying she was on her way to get their daughter. Of the things Cleo was grateful for, it was the fact that she and Don still got along. That he was happy to gently remind her of the thing she was supposed to be doing. The text from her partner was also a thoughtful one. Rory had picked up toilet paper and put gas in her car so she didn’t have to. Another text from Don said that he’d be picking up Jeremiah and would keep him for dinner tonight.

Cleo got dressed in a flash.

She opened the door and found a casserole and a note from Queen Gwenivere’s family. ‘Thanks for taking the time to get our pup back home, hope this dinner saves you the half hour you spent today.”

That is how she did it. She wasn’t alone. And neither were her neighbour’s. If Cleo thought about it, she remembered all the little gentle things that helped her get through the day. That moment to moment, she figured things out. She always had, because she did have a community. She’d fostered it. She helped when she could. She brought meals to people when she could. She dropped off tomatoes from the garden when she harvested. She watched other people’s kids when she had a moment. Cleo remembered that she was a part of something bigger, and that in her community they had each other’s backs.

Cleo drove to the dance studio and there Caitlyn was, in her adorable laser-cat leotard, waiting for mom, waiting for her…excited to tell Cleo all about the new dance they’d learned that day.

Caitlyn ran into Cleo’s arms, and in her hand was a small card. “This is for you, mommy!” It was a hand written note, in four year old scrawl that said. I.O.U. A NAP.

…and Cleo cried.

Caitlyn looked at her mom, concerned. “Are you sad, Mommy?”

”No, little one, I’m not. These are happy tears. I’m so glad you are my little girl, and that this is the life I got.”

Caitlin danced her way to the car, and Cleo did too.

They went home, and together they played put the calendar back on the fridge. Caitlyn asked if she could have the crayons and some paper so that she could draw while Cleo napped.

Cleo set up a small art station at the table, and Cookie snuggled up under Caitlyn’s feet. “Go take a nap, mommy. It’s my present for your birthday.”

Cleo looked at the calendar on the fridge, and realized that she’d forgotten. Today was her birthday. The door opened, and in walked Rory with a giant edible fruit bouquet, and behind them was Don, and Jeremiah. They were carrying balloons and gifts.

Caitlyn stood up from drawing. “Mommy is taking a nap first. That was my present!”

The room erupted in laughter.

Cleo hugged everyone, and then went up to enjoy her nap, to the sound of her family chatting downstairs and the aroma of a casserole warning in the oven.

Cleo wasn’t alone.