suite girl

So, the lightning bolt of zen acceptance I ordered last week has yet to arrive. Come to think of it, the universe has totally fucked up my order, but I'm on it. Meanwhile, there have been moments of levity since the fire, and this is a contender for favourite.

The fire wasn't as overwhelming as the insurance company mistakenly taking, LITERALLY, every stitch of clothing we own, including belts, shoes, freaking yarn. (!) The impact of having one outfit for multiple days is one I can liken to nothing I've previously experienced, and one pair of underwear + OCD = good times. After two nights roughing it in a ho-hum motel, we were upgraded to this incredible suite, and were eager to partake of its amenities and luxuries, but we were all washing our underwear in the sink and pretty much sharing one t-shirt. When the insurance company arbitrarily moved the delivery date of our clothing from Saturday to somewhere over the rainbow, we were forced to haul all seven of our collective garments to the laundry facilities, which of course meant we had to traverse The Shining corridor wearing ... what else? Sheets. Worse still, there were suddenly no quarters on the face of the earth. We had cash, but the front desk had limited quarters and we were thisclose to knocking on doors with our pathetic, crack whore nickels and dimes. Turned out the machines were cheap, and we were able to make due at the desk, but man was it a panic.

Cut to last night, when I brought my kids some dinner, and my Reilly presented me with this, most typifying gift, in the silver Nordstrom box she has cherished for two years, when she received a diamond ring for christmas:


With this inside (tears):


Quarters she culled from her piggy bank, to ward off future crises surrounding exact change. This bad-ass kid never ceases to amaze me with her thoughtfulness. She did say, "I made some change for Quinn, so there are some nickels and dimes in there, but they add up to exactly six dollars, enough for two loads." Her smile was twenty miles long, and so was the stream of tears down my cheeks.

Update: We received a glorious delivery today; like 12 of the most random assorted garments imaginable, and a five page list of "unsalvageable items," including everything we cared about. So we sat scowling at the nightgowns, belts, slips, YARN, and other useless shit, and the reality that our premium clothing is a thing of the past. Thus, it looks like we'll be diving into that silver box so that our Joad wardrobe is at least clean. All thanks to Reilly, who always has her mama's back. (This may come in handy when I need to wear her to the store.)

Maddening:


Whether you're feeling our pain or disappointed that I didn't die in the fire, the point is, Reilly rocks my world. Take that. <3