A Time for Thanks

November brought some excitement along with the cold weather. Neither were good. The morning of the 18th went as always; breakfast, showers, and we were ready for the day. The girls were on track break, so there was no rush for school. C-Bug had a doctor's appointment (due to a diaper full of -- well, the regular plus a lot of blood), and a friend of mine graciously offered to watch everyone else. I dropped them off around 9:15, plenty of time to make it to our 9:45 appointment. We were in and out of there faster than planned, but had some time while waiting for test results. I had a little shopping to do at Michael's, so I thought I'd run home, grab my coupon (who shops at Michael's without that weekly 40% off golden ticket?!?), and head down to the store. It was 11:00 am. Pulled into the garage, left the car running, ran inside for the coupon, back in the car, and I was off.

It was an hour and a half later, shopping done, tests were back (a couple of allergies, but nothing much to worry about), kids picked up, and we were back in our garage parking the car. I unloaded the kids and headed in through the laundry room. As soon as I walked inside, I noticed that the cabinets in the laundry room were open. All of them. Weird. Did I do that? I do have a tendency to leave cabinet doors open (just ask The Man - he hates it), but ALL of them? I did do laundry the day before, so I thought maybe I just spaced it and left them like that. As I walked through to the hallway a funny thought went through my head ...

Remember the scene in "The Sixth Sense" when the little boy and his mom are in their kitchen in the morning and he's eating breakfast while she gets ready for work? He's all nervous and she's frustrated with him. She leaves for just a second and when she comes back EVERY CABINET IN THEIR KITCHEN IS WIDE OPEN. The boy is still sitting in his chair, his hands flat on the table.

"How freaky would it be if I walked into my kitchen and all the cabinets were wide open.?"

Then in the hallway I noticed that the door to the closet under our stairs was open. The light was on. Now I'm thinking, "I may have spaced those laundry room cabinets, but I KNOW I didn't leave that open."

My heart sinks as I walk into the kitchen. Lo and behold, every cabinet is open. At this point I'm truly thinking of ghosts and crazy paranormal activity. Then I quick turn around and see that our tv is gone. I drop everything (except, of course, my baby) and grab the phone. Called The Man.

"Someone broke into our house. The tv is gone. It's a mess in here and I'm freaking out."

While the words are coming out of my mouth, another thought occurs to me. "They could still be in here. Upstairs. Get out. Now."

"I'm on my way home," he says to me, and we both hang up as I holler at and push my kids back into the garage and into the car.

"Get in the car! Get in! Just get in!"

"What's the matter, mom?! What's going on?"

They were confused, and I was freaked out.

"Mom! Don't go yet! My buckle is not on!"

"I don't care! Just sit down!"

"Mom, is C-Bug dying?"

"THIS IS WHY YOU ARE NEVER ALLOWED TO ANSWER THE DOOR! SOMEONE VERY BAD WHO WAS NOT INVITED CAME TO OUR HOUSE AND TOOK OUR THINGS! THERE ARE BAD PEOPLE OUT THERE AND YOU ARE NEVER ALLOWED TO TALK TO STRANGERS!!!"

Yes, in hindsight, I probably could have handled that a little bit better.

I'm pulling out of the garage now and getting ready to haul butt outta there. But then another thought. "If they ARE still in there, and they come out, I want to see them. No, I want to run their a** down with my car!"

(For all of you who were under the impression that I am a good, decent person who doesn't swear, sorry to burst your bubble. Now you know, and I feel just a little bit closer to you.)

I'm back on the phone with The Man, who tells me that he's called a friend of ours that works really close. He should be there in just a minute or two. And he's packin'. I tell him I don't have the number for the police. I'm assuming this isn't cause for a 911 call. Not until I've taken someone out with my vehicle, anyway.

Mr. Saturday-night special comes, then the police, then The Man. And all the neighbors who were home all morning but didn't see a thing are now coming out to see what all the commotion is about. The police check the house, and no one is there. A couple hours later we are making a list of things that are missing, writing out our statements, and sending the police on their way. A neighbor kept our kids so that we could clean up everything before they came inside. We didn't want them to see the house torn apart and their rooms in disarray. They literally went through everything. Every drawer, every box, every space in the whole house. It still creeps me out to think about it.

I slept with my purse for a week. The Man laughed at me as I would walk up the stairs at night with my purse over my shoulder. I had no more than 20 bucks in there (I'm dangerous with cash!), but I just couldn't bear the thought of someone coming back and taking the only thing I had left. I stopped sleeping with it when The Man told me, "They already took everything they wanted. There's nothing left here that's of any value to them. Why would they come back?"

We left the next week to spend Thanksgiving in San Diego with my family. Everyone was there, and it was so nice to be with them. It was nice to not think about being afraid for a while. It was nice that even though we were now without a lot of material things, I had SO MUCH to be thankful for ...

I'm thankful first and foremost that we were safe. I'm thankful that no one was in my home when I walked through that door with my four young kids. And no matter how bad a** I thought I could have been inside that car, I'm thankful no one came out while I waited across the street. I'm thankful for my husband who understood that although we originally planned to stay home for Thanksgiving, I just had to get out of there for a little bit. I'm thankful they were not able to take our computer, and every picture we have along with it. I'm thankful for good neighbors and friends who wanted to bring dinner that night even though it was our electronics stolen and not our food. I'm thankful for the lessons we learned and the chance we have now to be better prepared. I'm thankful that my kids were not scarred by my lunatic reaction, but somehow saw the whole situation as some exciting adventure.

While in the car the morning of their first day back to school, I asked the girls if they were excited to see their teachers and friends again. DC said, "Yeah! I'm gonna tell my teacher that we went to San Diego for four days!" And Miss Priss said, "I'm gonna tell my teacher we got robbed!"