Normal.

Two weeks ago to the day, if you were to drive down my street around 11pm . . . as you approach my house- an unassuming, yet charming duplex . . . you'd see no less than 3 New Braunfels Police Dept patrol cars and a detective's unmarked (badass) black Dodge Charger surrounding my driveway. And as you get closer, you'd observe the officers and the detective on full alert and reaching for their weapons as they assess your level of threat through the blindness of your headlights. 

This has become our norm.

Inside the house you'd find me asleep on my couch, fully dressed and ready for whatever the night required of me. Down the hall you'd find my daughter (15) and my son (11) sound asleep and un-phased by the unpredictable conditions we've become familiar with. We sleep soundly on this night. We feel protected and at ease. 

Then 7am rolls around and I awake to a loud, panicked knock at the door. Surprised by the abrupt wakeup call, I open the door to find the detective is already taking steps back in the direction of his car as he speaks with an authoritative urgency, and tells me to "Get the kids; I'll explain in the car. You have 5 minutes!" (picture Armie Hammer in a uniform- seriously. This guy is straight out of a movie.)

We only need 2 minutes.

As we hurry to his car we pass another officer, poised in my driveway and ready for anything. Though by this time, the only immediate threat is the drive-by of parents on a mission to get their kids to the nearby elementary school on time. We climb into his car and are greeted by Snoop Dog's Ginn & Juice. 

Of course. This guy's such a badass. 

He's the last one in the car. He turns off the music and radios in to dispatch to alert them that he's en route to transport us to NBPD. Then we're off . . . the kids: groggy and confused in the backseat.
 . . . I comfort them with a gentle pat on the legs as the detective fills us in. 

"SAPD couldn't get the warrant to arrest your ex-husband at 5am as planned. His ankle monitor just went frozen, so they're heading over to pick him up now. You'll be safer at the station in case he tampered with it and is on the run or coming to find you."

That's all? Seemed an unnecessary intensity for just "...he could be on his way to find and kill you." 

But this is our norm. 

It's a dramatic prediction- if not for the fact that it happens all the time and doesn't discriminate according to socioeconomic standing or lifestyle or various other factors. 
It does happen.

And from the backseat, the kids want to know . . . with pleading, unamused voices:

"When can we have our phones back?"