So this story actually happened back in December, but I thought I would share it now anyway as an example of how your mom went a little crazy with pregnancy hormones on probably more than one occasion. This was just one of those occasions.
Your dad and I had finally scheduled all of our Babymoon trip to Mexico. All the hotels were booked, the car rented, and the maps downloaded to our smartphones. And we new exactly where our passports were. So we were ready.
But then I got it in my head that I really wanted that passport case - you know, the ugly Eagle Creek "neck wallet" that you can hypothetically hide under your clothes to keep thieves from finding all your identification and cash. We don't use ours that way - we mostly just have it as an easy place to keep the passports when they are not in immediate use. We also used it as storage for the immunization records, and I was really sure I needed to have that to go to Mexico. I was sure my case was somewhere in the house and started looking for it in the obvious places - where the passports are kept, in the bag of travel/camping bags, in the outdoor gear bin, in the bedside table, etc. Unfortunately, after putting everything we own into either a shipping container or the Subaru and driving across the country from Colorado, then unpacking into our temporary quarters (Hitchcock House), then re-packing and unpacking into Chapin Hall, things had gotten a bit jumbled. There were 83 plastic tubbies that had been moved back, forward, up, down, back again over and over as we tried to figure out how to move in. The passport case legitimately could have been in any one of those tubbies now, plus quite a few other nooks and crannies. I kept looking for it and kept not finding it. It wasn't really a necessity for the trip, but I got it stuck in my head that we HAD to have it. Your poor dad got home from work and I was frantically going through every drawer, box, bin, shelf in the house trying to find it and when I didn't find it, I would start over again. I even went into the storage shed thinking I might find it there. I was too pregnant to be digging through heavy boxes in the storage shed, but that wasn't going to keep me from finding precious.
So your dad basically talked me down and reminded me that we had all the important stuff taken care of and more importantly, we had our passports, so the passport case was not that important. Thinking that took care of my anxiety, he proceeded to do something else. I on the other hand, fumed for a little while, and tried really really hard not to cry, but eventually succumbed and went to your dad in tears saying, "I know it's not important, but I really, really need to have that passport case [crocodile tears were running down my face]. Will you please help me look?" I also mentioned that I really couldn't control these emotions and I think he realized that I might just keep crying until that darned passport case was found.
The one place I did not look was in the car. Why would it be in the car? Well, as it turned out, your dad remembered that we had our passports available in the car for when we drove from Michigan to Niagara Falls to Deerfield back in August. Two border crossings. The most logical place for us to have our passports (in the passport case) was in the glove box in the car. So, sitting me down and telling me not to worry, he went out to the car and found the passport case. My hero. The crying ceased and I felt an immense sense of relief. I immediately made copies of my immunization record just in case it got misplaced again. Luckily your dad didn't spend too long looking for his passport case before he remembered, "Oh yeah, it got stolen in Slovenia!"
Then there was the time your dad came home to find me crying while I was cutting up some fruit. But that's another story for another time...
Your dad and I had finally scheduled all of our Babymoon trip to Mexico. All the hotels were booked, the car rented, and the maps downloaded to our smartphones. And we new exactly where our passports were. So we were ready.
But then I got it in my head that I really wanted that passport case - you know, the ugly Eagle Creek "neck wallet" that you can hypothetically hide under your clothes to keep thieves from finding all your identification and cash. We don't use ours that way - we mostly just have it as an easy place to keep the passports when they are not in immediate use. We also used it as storage for the immunization records, and I was really sure I needed to have that to go to Mexico. I was sure my case was somewhere in the house and started looking for it in the obvious places - where the passports are kept, in the bag of travel/camping bags, in the outdoor gear bin, in the bedside table, etc. Unfortunately, after putting everything we own into either a shipping container or the Subaru and driving across the country from Colorado, then unpacking into our temporary quarters (Hitchcock House), then re-packing and unpacking into Chapin Hall, things had gotten a bit jumbled. There were 83 plastic tubbies that had been moved back, forward, up, down, back again over and over as we tried to figure out how to move in. The passport case legitimately could have been in any one of those tubbies now, plus quite a few other nooks and crannies. I kept looking for it and kept not finding it. It wasn't really a necessity for the trip, but I got it stuck in my head that we HAD to have it. Your poor dad got home from work and I was frantically going through every drawer, box, bin, shelf in the house trying to find it and when I didn't find it, I would start over again. I even went into the storage shed thinking I might find it there. I was too pregnant to be digging through heavy boxes in the storage shed, but that wasn't going to keep me from finding precious.
So your dad basically talked me down and reminded me that we had all the important stuff taken care of and more importantly, we had our passports, so the passport case was not that important. Thinking that took care of my anxiety, he proceeded to do something else. I on the other hand, fumed for a little while, and tried really really hard not to cry, but eventually succumbed and went to your dad in tears saying, "I know it's not important, but I really, really need to have that passport case [crocodile tears were running down my face]. Will you please help me look?" I also mentioned that I really couldn't control these emotions and I think he realized that I might just keep crying until that darned passport case was found.
The one place I did not look was in the car. Why would it be in the car? Well, as it turned out, your dad remembered that we had our passports available in the car for when we drove from Michigan to Niagara Falls to Deerfield back in August. Two border crossings. The most logical place for us to have our passports (in the passport case) was in the glove box in the car. So, sitting me down and telling me not to worry, he went out to the car and found the passport case. My hero. The crying ceased and I felt an immense sense of relief. I immediately made copies of my immunization record just in case it got misplaced again. Luckily your dad didn't spend too long looking for his passport case before he remembered, "Oh yeah, it got stolen in Slovenia!"
Then there was the time your dad came home to find me crying while I was cutting up some fruit. But that's another story for another time...
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