That time I almost jumped out of a window...

Deep in these woods lies the setting for the "Hobo Hayride" that changed my life.

I was in 8th grade when it happened...when I lost my invincible naivety.  It was a cool fall night and I was looking forward to our youth group's annual "Hobo Hayride" (totally PC, right?).  Perhaps this would be the night that my crush would notice me!  I loved the 100 acre woods that was our church's home and we only lived one mile away, so it was practically my backyard.   Night had fallen by the time my dad pulled up to the open air shelter to drop me off.  I met up with my friends and we loaded up on to the hay-filled truck that would drive us all around the church property.  I'm pretty certain I had one eye on my crush the entire ride hoping he'd notice me on this romantic hayride.  Back at the shelter, Mr. B. was making an incredibly delicious "hobo stew."  All of us teens would bring a can of vegetables and Mr. B. would take our humble offerings and concoct the most delicious and hearty stew!  I don't recall if my crush noticed me that night, but there is one thing that I will never forget.

We returned from our hayride to dive into our tasty stew.  As we were cleaning up, a cop car pulled up with his lights brightly flashing and pulled our youth pastor aside.  There had been an armed robbery at Wendy's just a few miles down the road and the robber was on foot, headed our direction.  Before driving away, the officer advised loading up all of the teens onto the truck and putting us on lockdown in the church building until our parents could come for us.  Adrenaline was pumping and we were eager to load up, only we never got the chance.

Less than 10 feet from me, a man in camouflage grabbed a youth worker in a headlock, put a gun to her head, and started yelling.  I was squatting on the ground, heart racing, absolutely TERRIFIED!  I was frozen in time.  This was not happening!

This criminal wasn't acting alone.  Actually, he was in cahoots with my youth pastor.  It wasn't long before he stood up and admitted it was all staged and then proceeded to teach an object lesson.

DO YOU THINK I REMEMBERED THE OBJECT LESSON??  Ha!  This frightening incident began 16 years of heightened paranoia.


ON EDGE

This is much like my Project Bedsheet Ladder.

From that night on, I was absolutely terrified of someone breaking into our house.  My room was the first one by the stairs and I just knew I'd be the first victim, so every single night, I'd stay up really late until I knew my parents were asleep, oh-so-quietly sneak into their room, and make up a palette on their floor.  Unfortunately, my mom is a terribly light sleeper and upon her waking, she'd banish me back to my room.  I don't think she quite understood the extent of my fear.  I was so deeply afraid that one night I slept in my bathtub because it was the closest to my parent's room and the furthest from the stairs.  One afternoon in particular, I was home alone and extremely on edge.  I locked myself in my parent's room, pushed the dresser in front of the door, turned the tv down very low so I could hear if someone was coming in, and I began to tie bed sheets together.  If I had to make an escape, I was going to be prepared to jump out the window of our two story house.  I almost tested my DIY bedsheet ladder.  The only thing that stopped me was my potential embarrassment if I fell and sprained my ankle.  I was not ready to admit my crazy escape plans.

There was another incident that makes me laugh when I think about it now.  I was probably 18 years old and was getting ready for work mid-morning.  My mother had a full-time job now, so I was home alone.  Suddenly, I heard the door open and footsteps in the kitchen.  This was real!  My heart pounding, I raced to my dad's closet, grabbed a rifle, and sat at the top of the stairs waiting for the intruder.  Was it loaded?  I had no idea, but at least I had a gun in my hand.  I startled the intruder indeed.  My mom had decided to come home for lunch without warning me.  Imagine the look on her face when she started for the stairs and was met with a rifle in her daughter's hands!

MORBID IMAGINATION

Playa Mujeres - The eerily quiet pool.  

Since that 8th grade hayride, my imagination has proved itself to be highly active and surprisingly morbid.  For example, my hubby and I enjoyed a fabulous spa day on our Cancun honeymoon.  We got the works...from a massage to some water activities and three different saunas.  If you sat in the wooden sauna, you might think, "Wow, this feels great.  I'm so blessed to be here.  This is so relaxing."  But when I sat in the sauna, I thought to myself, "It's really hot in here.  How do people breathe?  I wonder how long it would take for this hot wooden box to go up in flames..."  When I survived the three saunas, I made my way to the pool.  The spa pool had a large overhead shower head that had the force of a firehose and acted as a back massage.  As I withstood the water-beating, I noticed how eerily quiet the pool was.  There was not a single worker in sight. Not a single one. My husband was enjoying a sauna, and I was completely alone.  In that situation, you might think, "I love the peace and quiet.  I wonder what we'll eat for dinner tonight.  This resort is so wonderful."  I, on the other hand, was wondering how long it would be before a worker would find me floating face down in the pool.

Playa Mujeres Sauna -*Jt and I not pictured.

WHAT WOULD YOU DO?
My husband is appalled at some of my imaginative scenarios, but I feel like I'm mentally and emotionally preparing myself for the worst at all times so that if the worst and I meet, I won't be afraid.  Recently my husband was away on business and I'm sure his expectations of our call were declarations of love and a thousand I-miss-you's.  Only, I greeted him with my latest escape plan that began brewing after browsing a car seat safety group on Facebook. "Okay, if someone broke in and you were able to get out of the house with Cash and make a run to the car for a fast getaway, would you...
a) take the time to buckle him in his carseat securely and then speed off or 
b) throw him in the car, speed off, then buckle him securely a few blocks later?
Needless to say, my husband responded with, "What in the world?  Are you that scared?"
Knowing my husband, I'm sure he also responded with something logical about running away on foot and why bother with a car.  And then I'm sure I presse
d him to answer my hypothetical question (he chose plan b in case you were wondering).

The moral of the story is two-fold.
1. DO NOT EVER use fear to teach a lesson (unless you are trying to keep your kid out of the road or teach stranger danger).
2. Do you have an escape plan in place?  Are you prepared?