When I start to feel anxious...

I have been thinking about our future as a family of four and how much of a change Little Guy's going to bring. (And of course all the extra joy and love along with him.) I marvel at the thought of doubling my life's responsibility from one day to another.

I admit, I've thought about how hard it will be to start over with a new baby.

Things have gotten so much easier little by little, I hardly remember what it was like to change ten diapers a day, feed every three hours, sleep-when-you-can in short spurts. Then we reach an age where every corner is a bruise waiting to happen and regular household objects are potential choking hazards.

"How am I going to manage to do anything around the house when I can't seem to do it now?" I find myself wondering..."Can I juggle all this -- and be proud of the job I'm doing?"

Then I think about my neighbor who just had triplets on Thursday. That's right, triplets! And that's a whole 'nuther ball game. Another league, on another planet, I might imagine.

I've been thinking about them quite a bit lately. When a concern comes up in my mind about our family, I find myself praying for her family (including their four year old daughter) to navigate their way through their challenges.

The baby girls, identical twins and a third sibling, were born big (4 lb +) and healthy. Things are off to a good start!

Every time I feel anxious, I remember this precious family. If I'm in a marathon, they are embarking on the Ironman Triathalon. And every concern I have about our family (Is this baby going to be healthy? Do we have enough life insurance? How will we afford X,Y,Z?...) seems manageable in perspective.

Their story keeps getting more exciting: check out this article in the Houston Chronicle.

God is marvelous!

We can do this.

Where do we go from here?

UPDATE:
UPS recovered our package (a week after it was delivered) from the couple who were guilty of nothing more than not being neighborly enough to walk the damn thing over. To my chagrin, we opened it up and there was no remote control inside!! (Just some other equipment that I don't care about.) So the man says he'll send the long-awaited remote right over...via UPS.

Enough wasted energy! I'm not going to try to wrap my mind around "why?"

Original post:

I'm frustrated and beside myself over the stupidest thing.

I spent 30 minutes tracking a UPS package that was "delivered" last week. The sender thoughtfully left an automated message asking how I was getting along with my new stuff.

I saw the UPS guy deliver the package to my next door neighbor last week. The driver was blocking me in as I was getting in my car to leave one day, so I walked down the driveway to see if it was the new equipment we were eagerly awaiting, namely, a remote control that works...a brand new one (you starting to understand how important this is to me/us???)

To my delight, the box was clearly marked Di$# Network; but instead of delivering the goods into my outstretched hands, he sliced right and left it on my neighbor's porch.

I fear this was a crossroad in my life, and I choked; chose the wrong path.

I could have said, "Excuse me, but I was waiting for a package from that same sender. Are you sure that's not meant for this house?"

Or I could have immediately called UPS Worldwide Headquarters and put them on the case.

Or, I could have (and in hindsight, should have) waited until the driver left, snuck up to the door and grabbed what was rightfully mine.

Knowing that my neighbors have the same, shall we say, master, I gave 'em the benefit of the doubt that just maybe, they too, were waiting for a box exactly the right size to fit my stuff. I let it go. I never doubted that if the box was meant for us, it would find its way to our porch.

That never happened and now UPS is on it and I'm not responsible for the loss. But I wonder...

Are they partying down with my new remote?

Was I intentionally wronged? (A teeny-tiny, perhaps naive, part of me wants to believe it is an honest mistake.)

And most importantly, where do we go from here as neighbors?

Do they suspect we know they took our sh--, our stuff? (Don't stand between me and the ability to pause and replay live TV. I'm from the barrio; it'll get ugly.)

These are Next.Door.Neighbors, for the love of all that is right in the world! This is not suppose to happen on my street. (Remember my wonderful street?) But that house, I'm afraid, has a spirit that attracts the weird ones... I'd better leave it at that.

I'm torn.

Our pastor was just preaching on Sunday that Christians give the benefit of the doubt. They don't bring up old trash. Or gossip. Or talk the way I sometimes talk onmyblogandinreallife. I'm suppose to set an example and love my neighbor as myself.

But myself wants to bang on their door and demand some answers. And get my remote, NOW, not five days from now when the man acknowledges my loss and reUPSes it.

Today, I am not only Woman Interrupted, I am Woman Scorned.

And when you hear from me next time, I'm going to be so over this petty diversion.