I haven’t posted in a while, but if you’ve been following me on any form of social media, then you are aware that my house recently flooded.

You can imagine that having my furniture piled in a POD in my driveway takes precedence over blogging. Maybe it shouldn’t, but it does. Hence, the reason for my lack of posting.

Last Friday, I stepped out of the shower to the sound of an angry geyser in my kitchen. I sprinted to my bedroom in a tattered bathrobe and a Turbie Twist to discover water pouring from my kitchen ceiling and our entire downstairs engulfed in H20.

To make an incredibly long and nerve-wracking story short, I sprinted to the front yard in earlier mentioned tattered bathrobe and Turbie Twist to shut off the main water valve. My sopping wet hair nearly froze into the world’s freshest-smelling ice cube as I battled the valve in a frigid 12 degrees. My neighbor saw me half-naked and struggling in the front yard, and she ran over with some hot pink pliers to help me shut off the water.

Fast forward a few hours later and a plumber was in my attic repairing the busted and frozen pipe and a restoration crew was ripping up my hardwood floors and carpet and packing all of our belongings in boxes. I found some amusement in the fact that they labeled one of the boxes “Kitchen bowels.” I already went into a comedic spill about that on my Facebook page, so I won’t repeat it here.

My family and I were off to a hotel as the restoration crew took over my home and set up a lot of heaters and hoses. I would post some photos, but quite frankly, I’m too lazy to do so. Just imagine the scene from ET where he is in that big bubble thing with tubes and hoses on the verge of death and Eliot’s entire home is full of men in hazmat suits. That’s what my home resembled. I’m not exaggerating.

Oh, and The Money Pit with Tom Hanks. Picture that gem, too. That movie played over in my mind several times as I surveyed the damage.

Alas, here we are- a week later. We are back in our home and living upstairs, but our downstairs is still a wreck. Our floors have been stripped to bare concrete and our walls are full of holes and our kitchen ceiling is stained brown as if the Jolly Green Giant has been chain smoking cigarettes the size of life boats in there. It’s not very cute and homey at all.

However,  I know that things could be much worse. Several houses in our neighborhood have succumbed to busted pipes and flooding and a dear friend of mine has been displaced from her home for nearly 5 weeks now. The flooding there was so bad that there is no way for her family to reside upstairs while the restoration crew fixes her place. At least we aren’t living in a hotel anymore and I’m not worried about my children catching Scabies.

I know this was a short post, but I know many of you have been wondering just what the heck went on around here. We’ve been blessed with good friends and family that have reached out to us, brought us meals and let me cry on their shoulders when I couldn’t find my super important planner or my favorite wool socks in one of the many boxes in our garage.

There is some light at the end of this dusty concrete-floored tunnel and for that I’m thankful. Hopefully our home will be back to normal in about 4-6 weeks, which is so hard for an OCD clean freak like myself. I get upset at dust bunnies under the entertainment center. You can imagine my anxiety at sheetrock bunnies.

I appreciate everyone that has reached out to my family. We can do all things through Christ Who strengthens us.

Oh, and has anyone seen my favorite jeans? Anyone? I can’t seem to find the box labeled, “Necessities.”