Weathering the Storms

It's interesting what constitutes "essential emergency supplies" when you're taking cover from tornadoes during the midst of a stomach bug.  As I received repeated calls from my husband and mother informing me that storms were headed our way, I sent the kids to the basement and I started gathering things.

Purse.  Wallet.  Cell phone.  Weather radio.  Epi-pen.  Camera.  Shoes.  Cups.  Diapers & wipes.  Food.

Food?  What can I grab that everyone can and will eat?  I settled on a box of Ritz and a bunch of bananas. 

We huddled in the closet, the boys noisily munching crackers like a bunch of mice, the static of the weather report in the background.  Doug called to make sure we were taking cover.  My mom called to tell me to go to the basement.  Somewhere along the way, Josie threw up all over my lap.

We finally got the "all-clear" and exited our 5'x5' confine.  At least for a while.

As Doug, the seasoned tornado expert, was going to be gone for the evening and I saw another band of storms approaching, I made the insane decision for everyone to sleep in the basement.  Josie occupied the Closet Suite.  With glow sticks in hand the boys and I lay sardine style on the full-sized futon.

"There were five in the bed and the little one said, 'Roll over, roll over.'"

I figured reading to them would be the easiest way of knocking out four over-stimulated children.  It worked for 3 of them.

I lay in between the older set and the younger set of boys, listening to two discordant tones of snoring and the cheerful chatter of a two-year-old.  Did I mention that I had been up 3 times the night before with the baby and once with a very stinky toddler?  I was beat.

I think Jonathan out-lasted me because at some point I woke up and realized he had finally passed out.  I was in and out of consciousness, unable to turn over, my imagination overactive to say the least.  A headline kept appearing:  Mother Dies Alongside 4 Children.  Baby Girl Found in Closet.

Thankfully Doug came back and we snuck upstairs, letting the sleeping children lie.

But I was alert all night, just waiting for Josie's cry.  At 3 am I heard a mysterious noise, a banging and thumping.

"Jonathan.  On the futon.  With the skillet."  (From "Sleepless in Seattle")  He must have had craving for fried eggs for he was sitting in his small space cooking.  The big boys woke up, too, so they all went back to their real beds.

At 4 am Andrew appeared.  He had succumbed to the plague.

A little while later I noticed Doug was gone.  Another one bites the dust.

Sometime later (it's all a blur now) Matthew appeared, lonely and sad, and went to his bed.

On the plus side, the little girl slept all night, something which has been very rare lately.  But most importantly, all we lost was a little sleep, something for which I am really thankful.