Lessons learned #2 (part 3 of 3): Keep your sh*t together

Today is exactly 4 weeks since the fire. We noticed that it is the first day that every article of clothing Jack is wearing is actually his own. That's a milestone of sorts. I'm still in borrowed jeans and sweaters but we'll get there. And speaking of jeans, this is where this third installment of "lessons learned #2" comes into play. Eventually.

After we had spent the first couple of nights post-fire with Mo and Ronnie, we moved on to the home of our friends Marybeth and Jim Welch. The Welchs (Welches?) were out of town and generously offered us *their home* while they were gone. All 6 of us (big dogs in tow), and with the insistence that the kids feel completely at home, invite friends over, eat whatever we wanted, etc. This is on a slightly grander scale than the standard "borrowing a cup of sugar" between neighbors. They allowed us to borrow their home - akin to opening their hearts wide open. Again, deeply humbling.

So Monday morning we wake up at the Welchs' and think of all the myriad of things we have to deal with. Positively overwhelming. Where to even begin?

We just had to start somewhere so our first order of business was to try to get our home phone number redirected to Jacko's cell phone. I realize this is a transition from wired to wireless but it's all AT&T so how hard could it be? Well, it was hard enough that it took transfers to 4 different AT&T teams. When we got to number 5 (which was also number 3, now we're going in circles wheee!) I gently suggested that AT&T should really have some sort of crisis number that people can call in situations such as ours and have a single, dedicated customer care person handle all of details. Judging by the response I got from the AT&T rep (after he yawned), I'm sure they'll be implementing that suggestion any day now.

While all of this is going on, dear Jack is in the background - and he is getting increasingly agitated by the circuitous route we are having to take through the labyrinth that is AT&T just to complete what should have been a fairly simple task. After an hour on the phone, and without any resolution, we hung up with the direction to "Call this other AT&T number". It would have been so easy to just lose our sh*t at that point. I mean, we were a hair away. But I said something to Jack along the lines of "We just can't lose it over this. We just can't." I mean, there are going to be a million of these types of interactions over the next months and we'll combust if we let each one drive us to the brink. We have to keep our sh*t together.

And now, the jeans. We heard back from the restoration people in San Antonio yesterday. They are the ones who took anything left standing in our home after the fire. Clothing and bedroom furniture took a trip to San Antonio in hopes of being power-cleaned and returned to a usable condition. No such luck. They're recommending to our insurance people that we total everything. Soiled and sooty. Uncleanable. Though tempted to lose it, I had to remind myself to keep my sh*t together. I had held out hope for at least some of our favorite items. Those perfectly comfy sweats with the hole in the knee, the t-shirt from that great concert, my Smokey the Bear hat - that kind of stuff. I will miss them. And mostly, I am distressed about having to say goodbye to my favorite jeans. These were not just any jeans, they were good ass jeans. And you just can't put a price on the value of good ass jeans. These particular ones are not made anymore. RIP, GAJ.

Instead of losing my sh*t, I am working hard to keep my sh*t together. I thought I'd write about it here and turn tears into giggles. Here's to keeping your sh*t together.