Wednesday, May 25, 2016

Shakedown

My car was broken into last night.

Or, more accurately, since nothing seems to have been broken, I seem to have left my car unlocked overnight and some enterprising person noticed and took advantage.

Theo doesn't know about it yet because
A) he leaves for work an hour and a half before I leave to take the girls to school and head to the office, and
B) when he finds out his head will probably explode with the force of his, "HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU!?!?!??" so better to save that for later.

I am good at many things (she says, modestly) but it may be true, possibly, that I... do stupid shit like this all the time.

I am a girl who left her wallet next to the gas pump and then drove away; (briefly) lost her college ID and keys in her friend's keyboard tray sparking an hour-plus, dorm-wide search; left her boarding pass on the counter at the coffee shop; left her wallet in a cab two days before her wedding...

There are many stories like this.

The first time I came home from college, my sister drove me back so I could bring my bike. It was Yom Kippur, so we waited until after break-the-fast (dinner) to pack up and head out for the 2.5 hour drive. We got 10 minutes away and I realized that I'd forgotten the heavy-duty lock I needed to keep my bike safe in the city. So, with a sigh, my sister turned around in a 7-11 parking lot and went back.

We got the lock, got back in the car. 10 minutes later, I realized I forgot the key for the lock. We turned around in the same 7-11 parking lot. With a louder sigh.

Got the key. Back on the road. 10 minutes away and I realized that the second time we went back I brought my purse into the house and left it there. Just in time to turn around in the same 7-11 parking lot.

I'm not saying I'm a pain in the ass, but... Okay, I'm kind of a pain in the ass.

And Theo, well, he's the kind of guy who gets up OUT OF BED because he can't remember if he double checked that the door was locked before he came upstairs. Spoiler: he'd already checked and it was locked.

Unless I was the last one to come inside/upstairs. In which case, it's probably locked. I'm pretty sure.

I noticed a long time ago that I am 75% more likely to pull shit like this when I don't get at least a full six hours of sleep at night -- and really seven or eight is better.

Did I mention I have two small children?

(Side note: this morning Eva bounced into our room at 5:30, all "wake up you sleepy heads! we're late, late, late!" Which is the, I now realize, very annoying way I usually wake her up, because most of the time, these days, she sleeps well past when she needs to get up for school.

Given that today was also the first time in more than a week that Lena has slept past 5 am, I was not pleased, to say the least, so I growled back, "it's the middle of the NIGHT. GO BACK TO BED!"

She argued for a little bit and then said, in a genuinely confused voice, "but how do you know it's not morning yet? It's light out!"

So we're going to go ahead and buy her a clock today.)

Anyway, the point of this story (is it too late to pretend I have a point?) is that Theo was right. I left the car unlocked and someone broke in and he totally KNEW that was going to happen.

Except, I say, HA! Because you know who regrets the break in more than me and more, even, than Theo?

That hapless burglar who wishes he'd NEVER seen the inside of my car.

I barely realized the car had actually been rifled, since the normal state of it is, generously, "junk drawer, exploded." (And you know what? It was EVEN GROSSER a couple weeks ago, before I started keeping a trash bag hanging from the glove box.)

But looking more closely, I could see that whoever it was searched through the center console, where s/he found old receipts, a (paid, I promise) parking ticket, a fossilized stick of gum, and some baby wipes.

S/he also went into the glove box, where there was the slightly more promising result of two GPS units (one ancient, the other prehistoric—both still in the car this morning.)

And finally, s/he searched the little drawer to the left of the steering wheel, which sometimes has money for parking meters, and which Eva recently, and very generously, filled to the brim with her very own pennies.

So good thing I left that car unlocked. Because what if someone tried to break in and couldn't just open the door? They might have broken a window, and then my car would be full of junk AND broken glass. Which I'd have to pay to fix.

Thief: 0
Responsible car-lockers: 0
Naomi: 1

Tuesday, May 24, 2016

Funnily enough, this blog is still here

And so am I, even if I haven't written in a while (understatement is a valid literary device).

So... what's new, y'all?

Oh, me? I've been busy running marathons, living the expat life, and all that stuff I used to do when I wrote here. Actually not marathons. Triathlons. Ooh, or those Tough Mudder races. I totally do those.

Or..... maybe I do a yoga class every once in a while and pat myself on the back when I walk more than a couple blocks.

But I live in a really exciting place that is...

Actually, I live in Washington, DC, in a 100+ year old row house that we are sinking all our money into fixing up.

But, truth? Even though I'm as out of shape as I've ever been, and even though I haven't used my passport since 2013 (which I find a little tragic), I'm pretty busy.

Meet the new cast members who keep me on my toes:

*Eva, who is currently five and a half (don't say 5). Eva is one of the most happy, fun and outgoing people I know.

She uses her whole body to smile, always shares the last bit of her treat, and sets her entire life to song (often ones that she makes up as she goes along). And since she was a baby she has had an amazing ability to push my buttons exactly up to the point where I'm almost ready to throw her out the window—but not one bit further.


(This is Eva on her first ever roller coaster, during a recent vacation in California. That is Theo, next to her. I was safely on the ground. I hate roller coasters.)

*Lena, who is nearly one and a half and already grabbing onto life with both hands. She taught herself to crawl at 5 months, to walk at 10 months, and to climb I don't even know when (at birth?). She wants what she wants, and she isn't going to wait for anyone to hand it to her.



(One of my favorite examples this one, when she saw the open jar of peanut butter on the counter. She was maybe 11 months? She pushed over the stool, climbed up, found a spoon, and started scooping.)

But if you're a grownup and she doesn't know you, she will 100% hide behind my knees or leap into my arms if you come near.


"What? People are scary. Excuse me, I have a light fixture to dangle from."