I can’t get this anger of my chest so I’m hoping writing about it will help.
My daughter and I went out this afternoon, like we do most afternoons, to take photos. We went out to try a new spot downtown, which has lots of antique shops and eclectic backgrounds. I have seen lots of photographers go here for photos and thought it would be a great place for inspiration.
I bought a few changes of clothes for her to wear, including a cute Atlanta Falcon’s jersey I just bought to go with some Happy Crawler football leggings and a matching bow from Chloe and Made. We were planning to go out to a football field to take some fun shots I’ve been envisioning.
I packed her bag with snacks, diapers juice, and toys to make her laugh. I normally don’t bring my wallet with me, but I did today.
We parked on a busy street and walked down the road to some shade and took some pictures on a sidewalk bench. Passerby smiles and waived at her, and we thanked them for their sweet compliments.
After taking several dozen photos we walked back to the car to cool off, and so Lil’ J could have a wardrobe change.
I changed her into a dress, and put another bow on her, fed her some of her snacks and drank some Gatorade myself. We cooled off and got ready to head back out for round two.
We walked down the same street the car was on and took some pictures in font of a fence. Then we walked around the other side of the block and took a few more. I was ready or some new inspiration so we headed back to the car to get her changed into her third outfit and to drive to a football field to talk photos in her jersey onesie.
I talked to her like I always do, as we walked back to the car. I told her what a good girl she was being and how we just had one more stop before going home. But as we walked up to our car I saw glass all around it. Our front passenger window had been busted and pieces of it were all over.
I looked to see what was taken and I first I thought nothing. I had my camera bag, my daughter of course, and I saw her romper sitting on the seat. But then I remembered I hadn’t grabbed the bag with the rest of her things in it.
My phone rang. It was my husband, calling before I had a chance to dial his number with my shaking hands. I told him was happened and that I was going to call the police. I didn’t remember until talking to him that my wallet was in my bag, but there was no cash, just credit and debit cards, which I told him to cancel.
Meanwhile, a woman came by and helped me watch my daughter while I made some phone calls. I still don’t understand how no one could have seen what happened. It was a busy road and it was 7pm, broad daylight. We weren’t ever more than a block away either.
Long story short, my husband came to get our daughter, forensics came to get finger prints off the car, and I came to realize that people suck.
I’ve always been a trusting person. Overly trusting. And I like to believe in the good in everyone. But after today I just don’t understand people. I don’t understand how someone consciously chose to walk up to my car, look inside–undoubtedly notice the infant car seat in the back, along with a baby mirror and other baby crap and break my window.
Sadly, this isn’t the first time I’ve had something taken from me. But it’s felt the worst because of the situation I was in. I feel like someone must have been watching us, waiting for us to leave. Who knows, maybe they’re one of the people who walked by and smiled at us as we were taking photographs on the street.
I don’t understand how someone could take a bag and dig through it, looking past baby clothes, a little cup full of snacks for a baby, my daughter’s diapers, and other things a mom needs for her child and just disregard that for their own gain. How can they not feel guilty? How can they not feel bad? What kind of person does that? And for what? A wallet with no cash, and no cards that will get them anywhere. No checks, no money orders, nothing valuable to them.
… But to me?…
They stole more than just my belongings. More than just things I wanted for my child. Things I had bought or worked for. They stole my afternoon with my daughter. They stole my good mood. My faith in people. My trust in the good of men. My right to feeling safe when I go out with my daughter.
I’m so pissed off. But I’m trying to remember how it could have been worse.
At least I had my camera, my camera bag with my lenses, and memory cards with thousands of photos documenting my daughter’s life. At least they didn’t take my phone.. Though if they did I could have used my “locate my iPhone” app and probably found the %#!$*^@s but still…
At least my daughter and I weren’t hurt, and I didn’t have any money in the car. At least we have insurance we’ve been paying into for more than 6 years, never having to file a claim but still need to pay some outrageous deductible because insurance companies are greedy jerks as well.–Oh wait, that’s not a positive.
At least I know better now. Double check my things, trust no one.
Compared to as bad as things could have been, we’re pretty lucky. But it doesn’t keep me from feeling violated.