One morning she's standing in the master bathroom buttoning her uniform when she is attacked by a pajama clad toddler with wild hair. She hugs her leg.
"Hi!"
"Hi wild woman," she greets.
Izzy lets go, and races past her. Mac turns, and finds her sitting on the toilet. She continues buttoning her uniform. She hears the toilet flush. Within a millisecond her personal space is being invaded. Without any warning there is a toddler standing next to her, trying to crawl onto the countertop. Mac looks down at her.
"Izzy why are you in here? Your bathroom has a stool."
"Help!" She demands.
Mac rolls her eyes, and lifts her onto the counter top. Without any provocation she turns on the faucet, and washes her hands. She dries her hands off, and leaps off the counter top.
"Hey, monkey girl, slow down before you get hurt."
She whizzes past her into the bedroom. Mac adjusts some of the pins attached to her chest. She leaves the bathroom, and flips out the light. She finds Izzy jumping up and down on her bed.
"What are you doing?"
Izzy looks around, and quickly takes a seat.
"Is that what you're wearing to daycare?" Mac questions.
Izzy wears a pair of pink pajamas, and a single sock. Her wild curls go in at least six different directions. She looks down at her bare foot.
"Yep," she confirms.
"Nice try. It's time for you to get dressed."
She hops off the bed, and follows Mac down the hallway to her bedroom. Mac stands in the closet, waiting for her daughter to disapprove of whatever she selects. She turns around, and finds Izzy digging her polka dot dress out of the laundry hamper.
"No. That's dirty."
"Please!"
"No, put it back," she says firmly.
After work that day she feels exhausted, and emotionally drained. She takes Izzy upstairs for a nap in hopes of getting a moment to herself. The last thing she wants is any company. The sound of someone knocking at her door obliterates that grand idea. She exits the laundry room, and makes a beeline for the door. She pulls the door open, and finds a familiar face standing on the other side.
"I wasn't expecting you," she admits still wearing her uniform.
"Where's your phone?"
"In the kitchen, why?"
"Are you sure?"
Mac furrows her brow, "It was on the kitchen counter last time I saw it."
"How long ago was that?"
She shrugs, "Harriet why are you asking?"
"Where is Izzy?"
"She laid down for a nap half an hour ago."
"That sounds about right."
"What are you talking about?"
"Can I come in?"
"Of course," she nods.
Mac closes the door, and Harriet pulls her phone out of her pocket. She dials Mac's number. Mac follows the sound of her phone up the stairs. She stops at the top of the stairs, when she hears Izzy's voice.
"Hello?"
"Izzy what are you doing?" Harriet asks.
"Shh!" Izzy warns her.
"Are you supposed to be napping?"
Mac tiptoes into Izzy's room. She finds her with her covers over her head, chattering away. She stops next to the bed, and peels the covers down.
"What are you doing?"
"Sleeping," she answers.
"Have you seen my phone?"
"No."
Sarah reaches under the toddler's pillow, "What's this?" She holds out the phone.
"Oops."
"How did you get this off the counter? Were you climbing again?"
"No," she insists.
"It must have been a monkey, right?"
"Yep."
"You have ten more minutes before nap time is up."
"Mommy!" She argues.
"You will be cranky later," Mac responds.
"Mommy!"
"Ten more minutes Izzy," she insists as she backs out of the room.
She closes the door behind her. She meets Harriet in the hallway.
"Apparently I am the last person that you called."
"I can't believe that she called you."
"She talked, and talked."
They start down the stairs, "I'm sorry. I was in the laundry room sorting through mountains of clothes."
"It's okay. One of my kids called Japan when they were her age."
"How did you get away without any of them?" She questions as they enter the living room.
"I have to go pick them up from practice in a few."
"How do you juggle all of their activities?" Mac asks out of curiosity.
"I have a master schedule."
"I have organized chaos, and I just have Izzy."
"You have a routine."
"She would love it if we didn't."
"How are you doing? You know if you need my help all you have to do is ask."
"I'm managing."
"It's been almost five months. How is she doing?"
"She still asks where he is all of the time. It certainly doesn't get any easier. She misses him."
Harriet notices the dark circles under her eyes, "You look tired."
"I'll be fine," she insists.
"You know if you need a break I will watch her, anytime. Three of my kids will be at sleepovers tomorrow night. Do you want me to keep her?"
"You have four. You never get a break. Why would you want mine when you could have a quiet night without kids?"
"I don't know what to do with myself," she admits, "Bud is going out of town, and AJ will be at the movies. I'll be home alone."
"That sounds great. Why would you volunteer to give that up?"
"When was the last time that you had a break?"
She shrugs, "It doesn't matter. I already feel like I don't spend enough time with her. She spends the entire day at daycare five days a week."
"You spend every second with her that you're not at work."
"It's my job."
"You don't have to martyr yourself, Mac."
"The other day we had macaroni and cheese."
"What's your point?"
"From a box."
"You hold yourself to impossibly high standards. You're not a bad mom because you fed your child macaroni and cheese out of a box."
"The other night she wanted to eat cereal for dinner, and I let her."
"Did she wake up hungry in the middle of the night?"
"No, she ate three bowls of cereal for dinner."
"Has she ever gone hungry?"
"No."
"Is she healthy?"
"Yes."
"She isn't going to die if you feed her macaroni and cheese from a box once in a while."
"It wasn't even organic."
Harriet rolls her eyes, "You never used to care."
"That was before Izzy was born."
"And then you jumped on the healthy food band wagon with Harm. If I recall correctly Izzy's favorite food is eggplant lasagna."
"What's wrong with that?"
"She's two."