Clearing wet clutter out of our basement after the flooding from Irene was easy; finding pros to cut out parts of the dry wall, spray on anti-mold chemicals and bring some industrial-strength fans to dry things out was impossible. Dave looked up companies and put in lots of calls, but waiting lists were hundreds of names long. Some companies' websites were all YOU COULD DIE FROM TOXINS IN YOUR HOME IF WE DON'T HELP YOU! which ticked me off. I can't stand people who take advantage of those in unfortunate circumstances.
But I am nothing if not resourceful. It's one of my best strengths, the superpower that has particularly come in handy for Max. I have been able to talk my way into doctor appointments for him despite months-long wait lists. I have convinced therapists to come to our home. I have done battle with insurance companies and won.
I feel lucky to have been blessed with an abundance of common sense and resourcefulness. I can barely do math, I'm not much of a cook and my tombstone will surely not read "She was a style muse to the masses" but I can pretty much figure out ways to find almost anything, get in almost anywhere, and just get things d-o-n-e.
As visions of mold danced in my head, I went into overdrive. I put up notes on online bulletin boards asking for suggestions. I called friends. Once, I chased a van halfway down a street that looked like a clean-up company only it turns out the guy was mostly picking up bulk waste.
On Tuesday, I dropped off Sabrina at a playdate. Of course, I asked the mom if she knew anyone who was doing water damage cleanup. "Aggie just used someone—I'll text her!" she said, referring to another mom we knew. Turns out two guys were helping out homes on Aggie's street and she poached them. A few minutes later, the mom texted me a phone number. Scott and Rick showed up, the most scruffy-looking pair of saints I'd ever laid eyes on. They scoped out our basement and gave us an extremely reasonable price for salvaging it; I would have paid far more to get the carpeting out because it was stinking up our entire home.
Dave stayed home yesterday to supervise the work, and I went off to work. That's one of Dave's superpowers: Encouraging people to do a good job. By the end of the day, all of our basement's soggy contents, from carpeting to couch, were sitting on the street outside our home. What's the opposite of curb appeal? That's us, an HGTV nightmare. Max wailed when he saw the play kitchen outside; he loves to pretend-cook spaghetti on it (he seems to be a much better cook than I am), but we can get him a new one.
I got it done. I'm damn proud.
What superpower do you possess that's most come in handy for your life—especially for having a kid with special needs? Go on, brag! By all means, boast!