June 21st. Longest day of the Year.
And in fact, it has seemed like the longest day of the year...which is saying a lot, we’ve had some pretty long days here.
I woke up early and studied the scriptures until Emmeline came in to get me. I was so proud of myself for starting off the day right (this is something I’m horrible at and am trying to get better). It was certainly the best part of my day.
We breakfasted and got ready and despite that perfect start to the day we did the last 5 min frantic scramble to get out the door. Jeff went out first to start loading kids in and found our driveway empty. No car where it should be. While Jeff and I started to panic, Hazel started searching on the street to see if somehow it had rolled out there and Emmeline was quite delighted as she kept trying to reassure us that it was in fact a magic car. It had disappeared.
Yes, it had disappeared by a magic trick called grand theft auto.
As this became more clear, Jeff walked the kids to school while i shook uncontrollably for a few minutes and then called the police in a cold sweat to report the car stolen.
It has been a long day full of calls to the insurance, walking kids to and from places, lots of puzzling and shock, meeting with the police and trying to juggle everything else I had packed into this crazy day before I knew how crazy it was going to get.
With the help of a some good friends, a movie for the kids and Papa Johns we made it through the day. I pulled off the Relief Society activity I was in charge of and held things together just enough to send the kids to bed happy.
We’re hoping the insurance will give us a decent amount of money for the car, but knowing our luck, they’ll find some loop hole and we won’t get a dime.
We’ve had bad luck here. There’s no way around it. I texted my mom when I found out. She got the text at 2am, read it and then couldn’t sleep because she was laughing so hard.
I don’t blame here. What we have been through in this country with car issues alone is quite a comedy of errors. As Jeff was putting Emmeline to bed the other night she asked him (in her best British intonation – she’s totally getting that down) if he also had a British accident. I’m pretty sure she was referring to the way he talks, but I’m also sure that we have had quite a British Accident.
In fact, we’ve had one British accident after another. It has been a wild ride. And this is quite a poetic ending.
Just for accurate family history records here are our stats here so far (I say so far, because we still have 11 days to go):
11 days left.
We’re renting a car and heading to Scotland (we booked a non refundable cottage yesterday). Really, with our track record we shouldn’t press our luck with another big road trip but one of these moments the target is going to slip off our backs, no?
Days like today are horrible. You seem to float through the motions in an emotional wreck of cold sweat, trying to juggle everything while holding your insides together with weak threads. But somehow because of the ugliness of what you’re living, the little beautiful things stand out, stunning. Peter looks right into my eyes and gives me a long cuddle as if he understands how hard this is for me. Emmeline says cute things, like our car is magical. Hazel reminds me that it’s all part of the adventure. Charlie gives me a tighter than normal hug. Their eyelashes are more beautiful resting on their sleeping cheeks. The sound of Jeff’s voice on the phone is more reassuring than ever.
All day I’ve been reminding myself that this is NO BIG DEAL in the grand picture. My children are happy and healthy and alive. My husband works hard at a good job and he is kind and gentle and dedicated to us and we love each other. And we have such good friends and such a supportive family network. And a bazillion other big and little blessings and miracles.
There are much worse things than our British accident.