Holy Trifecta

One home owners insurance claim... cha-ching.

$30,000...

Two medical insurance claims... yes... two. ....cha-ching cha-ching.

$5,000...

and a car insurance claim to round it off... CHA-ching.

$1500...

Possibly over-doing your insurance claims during the summer of 2010...

Legendary.

You're probably wondering, "What in-the-name-of-Perseus happened to you?" Well, I'm so glad you asked. Let me tell you.

The summer of wild debacles and life changing events started with a simple honey-do list.... a honey-do list that entirely evolved from an uncontrollable and raging desire that I had to "nest" just before our daughter was born. I unabashedly blame the hormones. What else could have driven me to ask my ah-mazing husband to install a closet organization system so close to my due date?

Hormones.

The Offending Fire Line

Besides, it wasn't like the project was rocket science or something, especially not for Tim. It was an ELFA closet system after all, and Tim is handy in ways that never cease to bewilder me. Nevertheless, one thing that not even Tim thought to look for was the location of the fire sprinkler lines. I mean, really? Who looks for fire sprinklers lines in their closet? and if you do, how do you know to look for them and why would you even think of that?  And, while we are on the subject...why would any major water line be made out of PVC pipe in the first place? There are so many really good questions that do not have answers. Its upsetting.

So, anyway, Tim began the installation of our closet organization system without even thinking about fire sprinkler lines. I left to run some errands. Tim ripped out the old closet with relative ease and then began to install the new one. He drilled one hole. No problem. He drilled a second hole and WHOOSH! He ducked as a stream of water shot out of the wall nearly taking out his eyeball with its sudden and voracious force.

The walls of our kitchen
and guest bathroom

Tim's first thought was... "oh, gawd. This can not be good." A second later, the force of the water erupted like a crack in the Hoover Dam, blasting across the room hitting the wall on the other side. Tim grabs the closet door and throws it in front water, injuring his back but he doesn't realize it because of the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he tries to save our home from turning into Niagara Falls. He runs downstairs to turn off the main water line, but after he does, he sees that the water is still showering the loft. That is when he realizes we were in more trouble than he originally thought.

He called 911 and FORTY-FIVE minutes later,  the fire fighters turned off the fire line. Gotta love that LA County response time, but in all fairness, our place wasn't exactly on fire. In the mean time, our indoor hurricane destroyed the master bedroom, guest bathroom, and part of the kitchen.

Our Kitchen in Plastic

I came home. As the elevator door opens in slow motion I see three firefighters get in. I'm like... helllllloooooo????.... I walk a little further down the corridor and see one firefighter on a ladder fiddling with our main water line and another firefighter coming out of our house..... and I'm like..... seriously. Helloooooo?

Remember, I am two weeks away from my due date.... so keep my big belly as a picture in your mind.

The chief firefighter greets me and very calmly tells me what happened, why I have a wonderful husband, and how much damage has been done to our house. In. That. Order.

The Ritz

Next, I see Tim dazed, confused soaking wet from head to toe, holding a wrench and a cell phone. I hand him the sandwich I brought home from the grocery store, hug him, and unload the dishwasher. Don't ask. I don't know what I was doing or why.

Coming home to
the Ritz from
 the Hospital

Anyway, we moved out and into the Ritz Carlton in Marina Del Rey the next day while they gutted our home to dry out the walls-ee walls-ee.... a week later, Sophi was born and instead of taking her home, we took her to the Ritz. Wierd. We spent the next three weeks of her life there.  She became a little celebrity of sorts. We couldn't complain except about the thousand people asking us why we took our newborn daughter on vacation.

Tim discovered his back injury shortly thereafter as the adrenaline from all these events wore off. Hence, the TWO medical claims.

Welcome Home
Gift from Ritz

Then, as we were packing up to leave the Ritz, we paused in the lobby to say goodbye to the wonderful staff that helped us survive the displacement from our home and the birth of our daughter when we hear CRASH! Then a valet calmly comes into the lobby and walks up to me. "Miss Schulz... your car has a sizeable dent in the front bummer. I'm sorry. Would you like to see it?"

The Dent

I thought I was being punked. I look over at Tim who sitting in a chair with the phone to his ear on hold with our home owners insurance agent. He rolls his eyes and says, "of course."

The fortunate part of this story for Sophi is that every year when we recount to her the legend of her arrival, it will not contain gruesome, wierd, sentimental details from the birthing room.

Nope.

It will be a parable on the value of insurance.

Sophi, 3 weeks old
Ready to go home.