It's taken me a while to type this up because it still moves me to tears. It's a bit of an involved story you see.... I wrote about Pennies From Heaven before. My Grandpa Mike (and quite possibly a few others) have been sending me pennies from heaven quite regularly lately. Immediately after Hurricane Sandy - I was finding several a day!
Then my best friend, Nicole, came to town on a business trip. We'd been planning our outings for weeks - including a Broadway show. Greg was all set to leave work early so that Nic and I could head out to a show. Then came the random "nor'easter" that brought 40 mile an hour winds and wicked sleet/snow to New York City. I wanted to be sure that I got the kids early so that everything would be in place for my outing in the crappy weather. I went to the school, packed up all our things and made sure that Wren was bundled up underneath the plastic rain/snow guard in her stroller. She was insisting that she hold her wooby for the walk home. I didn't want to give it to her, but in an effort to avoid a screaming toddler meltdown, I agreed to let her hold it. About halfway home, I peeked in to make sure she was holding tight. So far so good. We made it back to the apartment and the kids went running to check the mail (totally normal). Except... for Wren to do so required undoing the rain guard and rearranging the bag of school stuff so that the stroller wouldn't tip over! Of course on this day, there was a notice in our mailbox that we had a package. Atticus ran over to the doorman to deliver the note and then, in addition to all of our hats, scarves, jackets, school lunch boxes, umbrella, rain guard and stroller, I now had a large box and dry cleaning to try and wrangle onto the elevator.
Now we make it inside and I'm trying to get all of the pieces put back where they belong. Sometime during this process it becomes known that we can't find the wooby. Ummmm... are you kidding me? Where could it be? Did it get shoved in the bag with the lunch boxes? No. Under the stroller? No. Already put away in Wren's room? No. Anywhere in the house? No. Holy panic button. I grabbed the kids and headed downstairs figuring it must have gotten dropped in the mele at the mailboxes. No. No one had seen it. No one had turned it in. It wasn't anywhere in the immediate vicinity. Uh oh. UH OH.
Atticus asked if the paci fairy had taken the wooby to a new little girl. Good one, little man... maybe that's what happened. Wren didn't seem terribly concerned at this point, but I was FREAKING out. Greg got home and began to silently freak out and curse me for giving it to her while walking. G'ahhhhh. Oh, and at this point I had to leave or risk being late for the show. (More on the totally awesome show in a later post!!) I decided to walk the same road we'd taken home from school with the hope that maybe, just maybe the wooby would magically appear. I paced 5 blocks in the sleet and snow to no avail. I saw three mittens, a scarf and two hats -- but no wooby. I was holding tightly onto a penny from earlier in the day that was still in my coat pocket. Rubbing the penny, I kept saying a prayer to Grandpa Mike. Please Grandpa - I know you're there -- you can skip the pennies, just help me find the wooby. PLEASE!
Freezing, I finally made it to the subway and jumped on the 6. I got off to transfer over to Times Square ish with seconds to spare. Being that I was still freaking out about wooby and I was still half frozen and that I still don't quite know which train is on which side of the track... I ran down the stairs and hopped on the train just before it pulled away. A few minutes pass and the train isn't stopping when I look quizzically at another passenger and ask exactly WHICH train I'd boarded. Ummmm... oh crud - I'm going where? Yeah, I got on the wrong train and was now underneath the East River headed for Queens. Broadway is NOT located in Queens. Poo, poo, poo. We finally get to a stop and I leap off to try and return the opposite direction. Thankfully the very very nice passenger got off the train we were on to tell me that I was still on the wrong side of the tracks and that I needed to go up the stairs, over and then back down. OY VEY.
So, now I'm headed in the right direction, but I have no way of telling Nicole that I'm underground and running late. Freaking A dude. Finally make it above ground and start weaving my way to the theater. Thank goodness when I came above ground I knew where I was -- ha -- I was right next to Greg's office and our old apartment from the summer of 2009! I start calling Nic like a fiend (8 times I think it was) but she wasn't answering!! Eeeek. Turns out that we were both at the theater, just in different parts of said theater. We finally figure it out and get inside where I'm trying to regale the story of the wooby before the lights go out. I'm not joking when I say that we sat down with less than 60 seconds to spare!
Show ends, we grab dinner and then go our separate ways. Again, I decide to take the longer route home so that I can walk the route from earlier in the day. Again, no luck. Greg assures me that Wren cried a bit, but did relatively well sans wooby. I even fire off an email before bed to the woman who made the wooby 3 years prior hoping that she might be able to "recreate" it... In the morning, we're talking about how Wren has to be a big girl now and that wooby has gone to a new baby with the paci fairy.... she's a tad more upset in the morning and I'm not sure how well this story is going to hold up. Wren gets tears in her eyes and asks if we can call the fairy and ask her to return the wooby. It's not looking good.
Greg leaves before us by about 10 or 15 minutes. I'd promised Atticus that we could take the bus this morning, but I was hoping that he'd forget because I really wanted to walk the path ONE more time. But, alas -- before we can leave the apartment, he's begging for the bus. I agree, but think to myself, maybe we'll just walk to the second bus stop so that we go a bit further by foot?!?
Now... here's the miracle. And I mean MIRACLE. The three of us walk outside of our building and begin to cross 80th street when right there in the middle of the street - less than 50 yards from the front of our building - is the wooby. It had been run over quite a few times and wasn't in the best shape, but it was there. Seriously. Right freaking there in the middle of 80th street. I had walked past that intersection half a dozen times since the night before....but there it was. I think I literally jumped for joy. Wren on the other hand saw the state of the wooby and burst into tears. I managed to convince her that wooby was back and wooby was safe and sound, but all she could see was that wooby was almost black and was "dirty". We returned to the building and I deposited the black soppy wad of a wooby with the doorman and then we went to school.
When I returned home, I donned my kitchen gloves, turned up the water to as hot as it would go and filled the sink with hot soapy water. I was now praying that some Dawn degreaser would work magic on the wooby! I'm happy to report that with some serious sink scrubbing, wooby was ready for a trip to the washing machine. A couple times through the machine - and wooby was almost back to normal!! I had to do a minor stitch repair to one of the ribbons, but otherwise - we are back in business.
And... Wren is no longer allowed to hold wooby when we're walking.
Prayers and thanks to Grandpa Mike and all our other angels that had to work overtime to make this miracle happen!!!
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