-
-
Subscribe
Update: I won a goody bag! And it will have Angela’s book in it! Look here in the future for a review. Thanks Angela.
The lovely and talented Angela over at Just Go! (check our her wonderful guidebook about Rome) is hosting a blogapalooza with the Halloween-appropriate theme of “What a strange trip it’s been.”
Since I traveled for a year with a one-year-old, I’ve got more than one er, interesting, experience to draw on, some of which I’ve already shared. There was our arrival in Boston, our jaunt to Cape Ann, and our long trip back from Italy.
But one of my favorite travel stories has to do with the perils of living in a short-term rental with a toddler, something we did for three months in Austin, Texas. I was holding 18-month-old Tommy in my arms one morning as I stood next to the keypad for the house’s alarm system. Before I had time to react or pull away, his chubby finger pressed the activate button, which meant we were prisoners inside the house until and unless we could punch in the code. Satisfied, he looked at me, smiling, his blue eyes wide, his blond hair sticking out around his head like a halo.
I put Tommy down and squinted at the keypad. There were words scrolling and a light blinking and I was pretty sure (although not certain) that they meant the house was armed. My ignorance was no surprise since this was not my house, and was in fact the 1, 2, 3, 4, 5…sixth place I’d lived in during the past half a year. A vague memory surfaced: the owner, to me only a voice on the phone, sharing a secret code that shut off the system. But since Matt and I had not been setting the alarm since we arrived in Austin, I had no idea what it was. Every time I came in the door my hands were full of groceries, sippy cups, toys, the diaper bag, and Tommy; I was more concerned that I Matt, who had come down the hall dressed to go into the research library at the University of Texas where he had a fellowship, did not know the code either. A hasty search for it produced the owner’s phone number at work, but she was unavailable. Matt had missed his bus. We paced the narrow hallway, getting in each other’s way, each too tired after seeing the wrong side of 5 a.m. to come up with any kind of solution. Usually I am able to inhabit both small spaces and crises with Matt without losing my cool but for some reason on this morning I got crosser and crosser. “It’s not end of the world!” I declared, “I’m just crabby! Moms get crabby sometimes! You should just go!”And then, “I’ll deal with the consequences,” I said, unaware of course what those were. Matt knew better but as I grew more strident, he wisely decided to let me face them alone, making the calculation that he didn’t need to be the person who taught me what I needed to know. He was laughing to himself as he walked away from the house. He had already disappeared around the corner when the alarm started: exquisitely loud, piercing, cataclysmic. I heard the screen door in my bedroom slam against the wall as Tommy fled to the backyard. Grabbing the phone, I followed and found him running around the perimeter as if the noise was driving him into a trance or seizure. I had no idea what to do or where to go for help. I didn’t know the neighbors, and I was pretty sure that if I just drove away, trouble would ensue. The minutes passed slowly, the din did not abate, and no solution presented itself. Then the security company called. Although I walked to the back of the yard, I could hardly hear the woman on the other end of the line. I told her the situation. She said, “Well, what’s the secret word?” I said “I don’t know the secret word! I don’t know anything!” She said she’d “make a few calls” and then she was gone. The alarm stopped sounding a few minutes later, but when I went back into the house, I could see on the keypad that it was still armed. We stayed outside. About ten minutes later the alarm started going off again; the noise was all the worse for the respite. Tommy resumed his paces, and two police officers, a man and a woman, appeared through the back door. They looked at me standing helpless as I watched my son tearing around like a dog sensing an earthquake. I could see that the woman was struggling not to laugh. The man advised me to try and disconnect the alarm. Neither of them seemed to think that I was an imminent threat. It was phenomenally loud inside. “I think we’ll leave around the side of the house,” the female officer said. Just as they departed, the owner called. I started shouting a long and convoluted explanation of what had happened before she broke into my wild speech, saying “Shouldn’t I give you the code so you can turn the alarm off?” I hope you enjoyed this blissful little tidbit and learned something (I’m not sure what – perhaps always, always, for the love of God, write down the code! And put it where you can find it quickly! Not under a pile of books, which is where I located it later that week.) And now, please visit Just Go! Leave a comment and you’ll be entered to win a goody bag. And who doesn’t love goody bags? I hope you’ll also think about visiting some of the other wonderful blogs listed there. Enjoy! 17 Responses to “It’s Blogapalooza time!” Got something to say?
Comments
I also hang out at
Connect with Mara
And look! They liked me
Hello! Great story – we have a Tommy at home … if buttons can be pressed or keys dropped into holes, he’ll do it!
What a nightmare! Isn’t it nice to look back at it and laugh now? I did some temp-living with toddlers too – it’s scary!!
Wow, you’ve lived in so many places! Goodness! I think I can hear that alarm going off now!
What a great story! Thanks for sharing it, and thanks for participating in Blogapalooza, too!
Ha ha ha… There’s just something about burglar-alarms-gone-wrong stories that is inherently entertaining to me (he said, just grateful it’s never happened to HIM). I especially loved the moment when you finally had the owner on the phone — and continued to shout, maniacally, over the noise of the alarm rather than get the code first. I completely identify with the flusteredness!
Oh that is horrible. I’m glad you were able to get the code from the owner!
I feel your pain. A house we rented in December had smoke detectors that went off if it got too cold in the house (like when we had the door open to move our stuff in). The rental company and the owners weren’t helpful, and the alarms couldn’t be turned off. Once the house heated up (they had the heat off, so it took a while), the alarm stopped.
Your son is really cute!
You probably suffered more from embarassment, didn’t you?
Your cheeky little monkey is very cute!
Great story! I couldn’t have one of those alarms – I’d be constantly worried about setting the darn thing off. Anyway that’s what big dogs are for!
Oh, my gosh! My ears are ringing just at the thought of it!
Toddlers are natural born lever pullers and button pushers!
That would be my worst nightmare! Thanks for sharing your story.
What a great story…I know you probably didn’t think so at the time, but it is…grin..
From your story, I learned…not to have a security system…grin…
Hugs…
YIKES!! what a stressful time.
I’m not sure which is better, your story or the photograph of your little guy. They’re both terrific!
You poor thing! We have an alarm system at our house–it came with one. We use it every night because I live in a house full of crazy sleepwalking children, and I’d like to know if they’re going to do a zombie walk across the front yard!
I have experienced that terrible alarm…it’s truly ear splitting.
But it does make for a fun story!
I’m glad to find your blog!
Haha! That is really funny and unfortunate. I’m lovin’ your blog!
Great story! And lucky you, winning Angela’s book…it’s really lovely.
We have our own alarm story. On our first morning in New Mexico this summer we got a call from the alarm company saying that our fire alarm was going off! We didn’t know what to think, and called a close friend to meet the fire trucks at our house. Luckily it was just a sensor malfunction (which plagued us once we returned home), but for about 30 minutes we were incredibly stressed out!