Late last week, I was scheduled to go look at a few houses since we still hadn't found anything we loved. My mom and a friend had arrived to babysit while I was out and I went to go get in the suburban when I noticed one of our twin stroller frames laying in the grass in front of it. Extremely confused, I picked it up to put it back into the rear of the vehicle, only to discover someone had popped the lock on the back hatch window and stolen our entire bench seat right out of the car. I could not believe it. I started tearing up because it had already been a hard week and I just didn't think I could take anything else. On my way back into the apartment to figure out what to do next, I spotted our other twin stroller frame abandoned in the outdoor hallway area. Thankfully they did not take anything else out of the car, like car seat bases, sunglasses, etc. so I still had the rest of my stuff.
A phone call to the insurance company and 30 minutes later, I was on my way to the nearest dealership where I got the window latch repaired and the bench seat ordered. I had decided it did no good to mope around and be upset, instead I was pissed off angry and decided to get things taken care of. Next on my list, while still waiting on our bench seat to come in, I'll have a very loud, annoying alarm installed on the suburban. The whole event did make me feel violated. I mean, when someone breaks in and takes an entire piece of your car, it's not the smallest event to recover from. We cannot take the babies anywhere unless we drive both vehicles, but that plan doesn't exactly work out well during the week when the husband is at work. And I've got doctor appointments coming up for the kiddos (thankfully I think it's only two at a time) and I'd like to not be a captive in the apartment, but all I can do right now is deal with, so that's what I'm doing.
Right about the time I was feeling better and motivated to find ourselves a house and get the flock out of the apartment, I had to go through a much more personal loss. My sweet, old cat, July, passed away Saturday morning. She would've been 22 next week. I know she was very old and lived such a long, healthy life. She was loved every second and she was content and happy. She'd made nine moves over the years with me, including my first apartment, my first house and more. I got July at a Fourth of July picnic when I was seven years old. These folks were giving away kittens and I'd spotted an orange one I really wanted. By the time I went to get my mom and brought her back, it was gone. But then I saw July and my heart melted. She was a cute, tiny little thing and she came home with me that night. She's been with me ever since.
It was a traumatic loss for me. Like my husband said, having any kind of pet for that long is a major milestone. She was definitely a very meaningful pet and one that I'll think of every day. It's hard to look around and see her empty cat bed or to know that I'll never have her walking around with the babies or that I'm not getting to take her to our new house one day. But I'm grateful for all the years she was with me and for the wonderful impact she made on both my life and that of my family.
|My younger brother and I the day we got July 22 years ago.|
That afternoon, I knew I needed to get out of the apartment and the husband and I had some houses to go look at so we went to check them out. We found one we loved and now have it under contract. Things are far from finished though, so I won't say more for the time being but I'm very hopeful for the outcome.
Afterward, we met up with Amber and her husband George (you can read about their life with quads here) for the first time. It was great to put real-life faces with the names—and Facebook and blog posts!—and we really enjoyed our evening out with them. Unfortunately, I didn't think to snap any photos but I'm sure we'll have a Round Two in the future. Afterward, the husband and I decided we wanted to relax with one last cocktail or two but in a nice place so we stopped by the Four Seasons near our apartment. The bar was the perfect amount of lively-but-not-too-busy and we grabbed some Crown and Cokes and sat by the outdoor fire pit to wind down our night. It was just the decompression I needed—even if I did have to pay for it with a headache all day the next day.
Teething has reached new heights in our
Then there's always the motto we've come to live by: Take it one day at a time. And although these words still ring very true, the husband and I are both becoming very tired of one day at a time! We want to make plans, we want to know what to expect, what's coming. It's been hard, for instance, to plan the babies' first birthday party. For awhile we didn't know if we'd still be in Houston or not and now that we're in Dallas, we don't have a house yet and we need a place that can accommodate our foursome and be worth an outing. Fortunately, we both agreed that renting a lake house not too far away was the perfect idea and just booked one yesterday. I'm really looking forward to that and spending the weekend with friends and family.
I think this is one of those times where the repetition, the holding pattern and the exhaustion from it all just sort of weigh down more than usual. Like trying to keep your head above water, but you just need a rest. A break from the world for a little while. Slowly, I know we'll begin to reemerge and things will come together—as they always seem to do—and we'll begin to feel whole again. God always has a plan and, while I don't understand the last few weeks of it, it's not my job to figure it out. I just have to trust Him to hold me up when I get weak.
As I write this, I realize its Monday and it's the start of a new week. And while I was sitting at the dealership last week waiting for them to order a new bench seat and dealing with the insurance company, angry at the world and at whoever it was that saw it worthwhile to dump out FOUR car seats and take the damn thing, I discovered a quote that helped me buck up and deal. From Martha Stewart of all people. Instead of "take it one day at a time," I think I will adopt this as my new mantra moving forward. After all, as things evolve so must we and our life is certainly changing by the minute...