I'm not sure what the proper legal term is-- but our home was robbed today.
Jason and the kids discovered the burglarization when they got home from work/school.
The thief or thieves took our flat screen, my digital camera, Jason's 3-day-old MacBook Pro and the wii (and the wii games). They also took some jewelry (namely a ring my grandmother left to me when she died), though they left most of my nice jewelry behind.
They ransacked the master bedroom-- is that where most people store their most important stuff? Other than the flat screen and Jason's kindle (also stolen), it doesn't look like they took much else from in there (and there wasn't much else to be taken-- though, notably, they did not take my Kindle).
It's hard not to feel violated.
The kids are pretty upset about the wii. But I think they are actually upset about not feeling totally safe like they used to. Jason's laying down with Marcie right now.
I am grateful they didn't find (or perhaps even look for) our passports. If they'd stolen our identities, that would be a nightmare. I'm even more grateful none of us was home. I'm sure this was by design- but I'm still grateful for that.
Home invasions in our neighborhood are very rare. And two neighbors across the street and one of our next door neighbors are home all day (and were today). So I have to wonder how much of it was luck and how much of it was that our home was cased. In the end, I suppose it doesn't matter.
It's not the loss of stuff that hurts (though, I'm not gonna lie-- it sucks and will take a while to replace). It's the feeling that I somehow failed the kids by "letting" this happen. I sure hope this becomes a long distant memory for them, a small blip on their otherwise carefree childhood.