A close one.

So Monday morning we are all sound asleep. Visions of a day of packing and playgroup were bouncing around in my head, a week of work and last minute moving details in the husbands and whatever Miranda dreams about in hers. Then screams and the fire alarm.

Apparently I jumped out of bed said "that's the fire alarm, we have to leave" I ran to the Peanut's room, collected her blanket wrapped body up, then back to our bedroom, pulled on the first robe that came to my hand and slipped on shoes. The husband in jammer bottoms put on his coat and we opened the door. Smoke.

I closed the door looked at the husband and then ducked down and made a dash for the stairs. The fire was across and one door down from us. The stairs right around the corner. we headed down the stairs and out the front door at a half run. Out onto the front lawn and then across the street, where I stood and watched a dull glow in our neighbors bedroom turn into leaping flames. Watched the glass crack and break and smoke and flames escape.

Thankfully we had police, fire and emergency services on the scene within minutes. by the time the glass was breaking from the heat, firetrucks and men were setting up hoses and taking aim. No one was hurt. Everyone in the building got out safely and quickly. No one stopped to grab anything but themselves and loved ones.

I remember at once the sound of the fire and that it all seemed to happen in silence with quick bursts of sounds. I was in a bubble with my baby in my arms safe, watching the possibility of losing everything else.

It's been a rough few days, waiting for details, waiting for the OK to go back in, waiting for the building manager to bring out a few things, waiting again for the OK to go in, waiting for the insurance adjuster to let us know what they'll do for us, waiting to see the doctor about the cough the husband, the Peanut and I have now. Waiting to see a councilor to help us deal with everything. Waiting for Grandma to come.

It's been a rough few days of phone calls. making them, taking them. Family wanting to know we are OK. Friends wanting to know what happened.

It's been a few days of feeling blessed that we are all together, that things weren't worse, that we got out so quickly. It's been a few days of reliving moments of shock, of picturing all the things described above. It's been a few days of gratitude for the kindness of friends and strangers. The fireman who gave the Peanut a stuffed dalmatian that morning. The second fireman who went into our home to bring out wallet, keys and glasses, who brought down the Peanut's stroller too. To the neighbor who gave us a pair of socks to put on the Peanut's bare feet. To the staff of the Fatburger who opened their doors to us, gave us coffee, toast and pancakes and juice. To our good friends who opened their house to us. To our friends at the Peanut's playgroup who were so happy to see us and hear we were OK, who gifted the Peanut with one of her favourite playgroup toys (a bean bag turtle) when they heard she had no comfort toys with her. The extra grocery store gift certificates gifted to us by our playgroup friends.

It's been a few days of planning for the future, our new place. Planning measures to keep us safe in the next place. fire extinguishers, roll-up ladders, emergency case with important documents. Planning ways to feel empowered rather than helpless.