It was the worst of times, it was the worstest of times.

It all started with a triathlon. I was not participating in the triathlon, but 80 professional athletes and thousands of amateurs came to Bahrain to compete in a half ironman last weekend. A legit one. An official, branded, part of a world-wide series of sporting events set up by an outside entity race. Josh would have loved to compete in it except, surprise! He was not going to be here. It turned out that he was headed out of the country the morning of the race and when they published the maps of the race route and road closures I sent him a message saying it was a good thing his was leaving on an early flight or he might not be able to get to the airport.

He had to be there by 7 and the roads weren’t supposed to close until 7 so he left at 6, sure he had plenty of time to make the 20 minute trip. He messaged me at 6:30 and said he hadn’t even gotten over the bridge yet and was afraid he wouldn’t make it. It turns out that whoever was in charge of road closures closed all the roads earlier than scheduled and everyone was stuck. Gridlock. Usually people flaunt traffic rules but someone must have put the fear of God into the security people that this was a VERY IMPORTANT RACE because they weren’t budging. 
Josh messaged me again after 7 and said he barely made it to the airport, but had to dump the car in short term parking which costs $25/day. An 8 day trip meant that I was going to have to go back later in the evening to move the car so that we could afford to feed the kids this month. Oh well. A small inconvenience. Another small inconvenience was that Calvin had a youth conference on base that morning and the road leading in wasn’t supposed to close until after 8, but we gave ourselves 90 minutes for an 8 minute trip since I suspected it wouldn’t go smoothly. Sure enough, I got as far as the road that divides our neighborhood from the base neighborhood and they had already closed it, directing all traffic toward the freeway. We rolled up to the corner and Calvin hopped out and started the 20 minute walk in on foot. Thankfully he had packed his dress clothes in his bag with the intention of changing upon arrival, just in case this exact scenario took place. 
I was able to maneuver and get back home and now it was 7:30 am on a Saturday (I had to wake up Camille to take Calvin — the worst sin ever) and we were stuck at home. I had the bright idea of telling Camille we’d do 20 minutes of straightening up and then watch a movie and drink hot chocolate. Fun mom, right? She, of course, fixated on the hot chocolate and movie part and ended up in a limp rag doll tantrum: “I want to pick the movie NOW!!!” so we spent the next 30 minutes in preschooler hell until she realized that me asking her to pick up her princess dolls wasn’t the worst thing in the world and she wiped the snot and tears off of her face and grudgingly went to work. She’s an extreme cryer, but once she snaps out of it she is quick to apologize for her drama. 
So we hung out at home for the rest of the morning, avoiding this mess on the roads:  Traffic problems
This article makes me laugh because it shows how unprepared they were for the logistical problems that arose from closing so many major roads all at the same time. That lack of foresight is common here. Josh was fortunate that his flight took off, but many people had canceled or delayed flights and the cruiseship disaster? 1700 extra people trying to tour the island on the day of a major road race? The triathlon has been scheduled for a year, it didn’t occur to anyone that that would be a bad idea? 
My friend who was competing in the race said she was flying by the wall of traffic on her bike thinking, man, you people are going to be stuck for hours. She said it was all horns blaring and people out of their cars, standing around and frustrated. All that to say, I was happy to stay home. 
I wish my cat had been just as happy to stay home. Around noon the guy came to wash our car and Camille was outside chatting with him and let the cat out accidentally. I caught him and brought him back inside, but a few minutes later I couldn’t find him and knew he had slipped back out. Since we live on a corner that is hazardous to all living creatures, I was nervous about him being out, but there wasn’t anything I could do other than hope and pray he would come back when it got dark and he got hungry.
Finally around 4pm all the roads had opened back up and I was able to go take care of moving the car. The other unfinished business that Josh left behind was an issue with Carter’s phone. The night before, they had gone to the electronics mall here (a bunch of tiny shops that all sell cellphones, cases, do computer repair, etc. I have no idea why things are organized this way, but one place will have all the fabric shops, another area all the shops that sell faucets and tub fixtures, another area is lightbulb alley, etc. It seems completely counterintuitive for a successful business to have that much competition, but whatever. It was that way in Oman too) to buy Carter a cellphone. A used iPhone to be specific. Carter has been saving his money for a year and finally saved up enough to buy one. They came home happy until I tried to call Carter 10 minutes later and I could hear him, but he couldn’t hear me. They checked every part of the phone, except the actual phone part, cause you assume a phone can make and receive calls. (That and he didn’t have his sim card with him to actually make a call). So I needed to take him back there ASAP to get it repaired or replaced so they didn’t blame him for breaking it. 
First I had to pick up Calvin from his conference. He didn’t win Military Child of the Year, but he said it was a good day and his speech went well. Yay. Went home, dropped him off, picked up Carter and headed to the cell phone shop. I hate going there because it’s in an area with nasty traffic. But we made it and only had to drive the wrong way down a one way street once. Victory. Inside the guy checked out the phone and said it was an easy fix if we could wait 20 minutes. Then 20 minutes turned into an hour because the guy “didn’t have the part so inshallah,” his guy would come in an hour. I decided while we waited it would be a good time to go take care of the car at the airport. Of course I didn’t take the key with me so I messaged Calvin and said we would swing by the house and if he could grab the keys for us and bring them out, that would help. Now it’s getting dark and the cat still isn’t home. Caleb is in tears, but there’s not much I can do until I’m home for the evening. 
Key handoff complete we head to the airport, getting stuck in massive traffic on the way. 6 or 8 police and military vehicles with blue lights flashing and cars stopped on both sides of the road. I thought it was a checkpoint until we got closer and saw foam all over the street and sidewalk. It turns out that someone was in a massive single car crash that set his vehicle on fire and killed him. Ugh. The paper reported, “It is believed drink was involved.” (that’s how they talk about alcohol here)
Meanwhile in traffic Carter and I making the best of things are cranking the music (hoping for a little Taylor Swift “Shake it Off”) so I decide to open the sunroof. Only the sunroof that I spent over $200 fixing last week won’t open. So Josh relaxing in his hotel in Jordan starts getting crazy lady texts like this one:

We finally make it through the mess and out to the airport, locate the car in the parking lot, and park. My plan is to move Josh’s car to the long term lot a few blocks away (that only costs $2.65/day) and then walk back to short term to get my car. As I grab my purse and close up my car I see Carter struggling with the key. “It’s not working, Mom.” I wiggle and jiggle the key in the lock and then look down to see that the key he is using to try and get into the Land Rover is the old Montero key. Breathe in, breathe out. I’m annoyed and headachy and can’t believe that I drove all the way out there for nothing, but life goes on. My fault, I should have checked to make sure the boys handed off the correct key to each other. So back to the cell phone store to see if any progress has been made on Carter’s phone. 
The guy said that they replaced the speaker in the earpiece but it still didn’t work so he was going to have to have the technician keep it overnight and take a look at it. He said that he would let me know how much it would cost. Excuse me? You sold me a broken phone. I’m not paying anything. 
We went round and round at the shop with him saying that we should have checked the phone thoroughly before leaving and I said there’s no way to check it without a SIM card and he should have checked it before he sold a defective product, but we both decided it wasn’t worth arguing about it until we knew whether it was a big problem or a small problem. 
So I returned Carter to the house, went inside and got the correct key myself and went back out to the airport. I told the kids I wanted them to go to bed and to be asleep by the time I got home. Bob was still crying and Carter started crying because Zeki still hadn’t come home. I told them they could troll the neighborhood for him, but then go to bed because I wasn’t in any mood to deal with any more garbage (like putting Camille to bed) after going to the airport twice in one evening. Calvin made the insightful statement of, “Why does this stuff always happen when Dad is gone?” Sure enough. It’s one of the laws of nature. The 11th commandment. It’s as predicable as gravity. 
Round 2 at the airport was pretty uneventful, even though long term parking looks like a private parking lot and they’ve reversed the lot so you have to drive in the exit, against the directional arrows to enter. Figures. I arrived home around 9:30, having just spend the last 5 hours driving in circles getting almost nothing accomplished. And our cat was still missing. 
At first glance it seemed that they were all asleep,  but I found Carter, huddled up by our front window, sobbing that he couldn’t go to school tomorrow because Zeki wasn’t home. Poor kid. I didn’t expect that from him (Caleb, definitely). Neither did Josh apparently since when I sent him these texts he seemed very insensitive to our pet tragedy. 
(we worked things out eventually)
I told Carter to go to bed and that I would walk around our neighborhood and look for him before I went to bed. So, looking like an idiot, I walked all the blocks in our immediate vicinity with a plate and fork in hand, tap, tap, tapping as I walked, hoping the cat would come running like he does at mealtime at home. I’m sure I looked like the step-mom/girlfriend from The Parent Trap tapping her sticks together to scare away the mountain lions. Ridiculous. It did have the desired effect though. All the cats in the neighborhood came running: scrawny black ones, diseased looking tabbys, an orange one with an oozing eye and a banged up ear . . . cats came from all over to see what sort of food I was passing out. But not my cat. I finally gave up looking under parked cars and went home, full of sunshine.
Yep the dog got out while I was looking for the cat and ran his scrawny behind all over the neighborhood (thankfully not getting hit by a car in the process) until I blew his whistle (thanks mom) and he ran up panting a few minutes later, smelling of garbage. 
So I sat on the couch, grumbling to myself about how horrible my day had been, and how I should probably take Motrin for my headache, but I didn’t think I had any left in the house, and I put on Survivor, but didn’t care who or what was voted off the island as I knit for the next two hours. Finally a little after midnight I decided it was time to go to bed, but I wanted to check our yard one last time to see if Zeki had heard my plate tapping and decided to come home (I had left the gate open and the garage door up just in case). 
I saw a small bit of movement under the car and thought, “No way. God has answered our prayers and Zeki came back!” I pulled out my phone, turned on the flashlight and peered under the car to see a black and white cat staring back at me. Seriously? That’s just cruel. I got my hopes up for nothing. I reached out to shoo away the stray and saw a bit of beige fuzz behind him. It was Zeki!!! Huddled up on the inside of our car tire. I reached out and pulled him toward me and ran inside and woke up the kids. 
Happy days are here again!
I put the kids back to bed, called Josh and told him the good news and then as it was after 1am, decided it was time to crash. But where was the cat? I checked all of his normal lounging places and he wasn’t there — I even tiptoed around the kids rooms with my flashlight hoping to find him tucked in among their covers. 
I realized in leaving a way for the cat to come back in the house (open bathroom window) I had unwittingly provided him a way to get right back out. Ugh. I don’t get paid enough for this job. I did one last scan of our yard and trees with my flashlight before saying, “screw it” and heading to bed. I figured if God had brought the cat back once, he could do it again and at least the kids could have a peaceful night’s sleep believing the myth that their cat was safe inside the house. 
A few hours later, morning arrived and I headed outside at 6:30 while the kids were in the shower and called for the cat through my bleary, puffy eyes. He came trotting up like it was no big deal that he had spent the night outside so I picked him up, made sure all of our windows were closed, popped him in the bathroom where the kids were getting ready (and were happy to love all over him) and went back to bed. Amen.