My Family

One Adam Twelve, One Adam Twelve, a two-eleven in progress…One Adam Twelve, handle Code 3


I loved that show – reruns anyway – when I was a kid.

I have no idea what a two-eleven was – or is – or how quickly Code 3 means they should respond…I’m guessing from the immediate siren sound after it, that Code 3 means pretty quickly.

And that is my segue into the event of December 31st.  I was at work, kids were at daycare, Bill was at home because he is a teacher and had that whole week off.  He called me late morning to see if there was anything else I could think of for him to pick up at the store, and then he left the house at approximately 11:15 am to go to the bank and the grocery store and Home Depot and the asian market we like to shop at. 

I got sprung from work early – around 2:00, so I left him a message on our answering machine, picked up the kids, and headed home.  Turned onto our street and saw a police car parked on the street.  My slow brain first thought Bill’s cousin (who is a police officer) was visiting, but the car was from our town, not the one he works for…then I thought it had nothing to do with us, and then I pulled into the driveway and saw Bill and a police officer outside and Bill saw me pull in and marched rapidly toward my car with his hand out in a "STOP" position.  So I did.

Our house was broken into.  We’d been robbed.

Fun fun fun.  They didn’t get much – we don’t have a whole lot of stuff that is both small and worth stealing.  They did get our DVD camera and some (but not all – SO THERE) of the stuff that went with it…and all the coins from various jars and coffee cans that we were MEANING to cash in soon…and they went through the bureaus in our bedroom and through my jewelry box, but it doesn’t look like they got anything (because – HA HA – most of what I have isn’t worth anything and the things that are worth anything are things I sometimes wear but forget to put away in the jewelry box where they belong so I lucked out because I am lazy.  There’s a lesson for you!) OH – and they took the diaper bag.  The black, backpack-like diaper bag.  I believe they used it to take out all the change they stole. 

The only thing that hurts is that in the DVD camera was a disk that we hadn’t filled up yet.  Little things like Alex telling us what sounds various animals make…Bill taking Alex trick or treating…Julia doing cute little Julia things…Christmas morning when Bill got Alex singing "Jingle Bells" from his crib…and later, coming down the stairs into the living room…Alex saying over and over, in awe, "presents….presents!" 

That’s the stuff you can’t replace.  Can’t get reimbursed for.  That file a claim for.  That’s what you kick yourself in the head about – why did I leave that IN THERE???  That’s the one thing you want to somehow communicate to the losers that broke in that if they would just drop the disk in the mailbox we’d be happy and fine, keep the DVD camera.  We’ll just upgrade.

So it wasn’t the happiest of New Years.

But on the other hand…this was all right after the Tsunami hit Asia all over the place…so in comparison, we’ve got precious little to complain about.  We are all alive, we have a roof over our heads.

And now we have deadbolts on the doors and a security system installed.

I was going to use the break-in to somehow excuse my lack of writing in a month and a half…but that’s not the reason.  There is no specific reason, other than just the general busy-ness of a family and a job and most of January spent with one or more of the four of us sick in some form or another.

But I miss writing.  I would find myself in bed at odd hours of the night, after being up for the umpteenth time with Julia…and I’d be writing stuff in my head…composing things to post.  But then sleep deprivation would work its magic and the next morning I’d have absolutely no idea what I’d wanted to write about.

So now I’m writing little notes to myself at work (which is where I do a LOT of thinking about things that I’d like to post…because it’s far more entertaining than the work I should be doing)…because I don’t want to forget stuff, and I need to write more.

So I plan to.  But now the timer on the stove has gone off, which means I have to get my shoes back on and drive back to work – my lunch break is over.

Sorry for the long gap in writing.  I’ve missed you.

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