DITL was a term in one of my jobs. It was even the nickname of one of the guys I played softball with… yes, pre-children I played a lot of work co-ed slow-pitch softball!
Today, two-thirds of my children threw up… one in the car on the way to school, one at the dinner table. They have incredible gag reflexes.
Today, after the months-long process of calling MetLife critical illness insurance to check on my claim, calling doctors, getting a friend who works at the hospital to physically stalk doctors, getting my company benefits administrator to call, fax information, seeking clarification, giving my claim or certificate number, my DOB, address and contact number should we get disconnected…over and over and over again… today, it got to me. Today, I found myself shaking with rage, and then, as close as I’ve ever come to bawling my eyes out at my desk at work. It’s dirty money. Insurance money. That’s how it feels. Critical illness, or life…insurance feels like dirty money. I remember one life insurance check specifically stating “death benefit” and it made me feel like I was going to vomit (which I know never to do in front of my little gag-masters.) But I survived, I got through the day. (Stay tuned because Critical Illness insurance is still not resolved, even though Tim was critically ill close to 6 months ago.) I even finished a compliance training. I drove home. I played with A, R, and D. We read books. We talked about the sunny, stormy, and surprising parts of our days. I got everyone to bed. I listened to a podcast while I made egg salad and did the dishes.
And you know what? I conquered the car seat cleaning. That was always Tim’s self-appointed job. There have been many car trip puking incidents… and on each one I handled the cleaning of the child, and Tim handled the cleaning of the car seat. Once, on our way to Richmond in 2015, we pulled over to the side of the road IN THE SNOW, jumped out, I cleansed and changed R, and he cleansed the car seat. We were back on the road in record time and Tim gave me a huge high five and was incredibly proud of our efficiency. Never did I imagine that was something we would get good at together as a couple, as a team. But we did. We were quite a team. We handled a puking in the car seat child with the best of them!
Tonight, I reinstalled the clean car seat cover, and the car seat back into the car. I didn’t want to, but it was a necessary evil. I missed him. And not just because it was a gross annoying job I didn’t want to do, that he did valiantly without complaint…. but because I just plain miss him all the time.
This is a day in the life of a 36 year old widow with three small children. Thanks for asking.
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