Hurricane Sandy's Morning Lesson

Just when you think life can’t possibly get any busier, along comes Hurricane Sandy.

At first it started with an eye roll on my way to work.  SUUUURE I needed to get my emergency-preparedness kit ready.  RIIIGHT it’s going to be SO windy that I need to come up with an evacuation plan for my family.

How about I wear a raincoat to work and plan to stay indoors tonight?  That sounds a little more realistic; those weather people are ALWAYS stirring up drama.

And so I eye-rolled away at the frantic warnings and Presidential address.  In fact, I believe I was watching something in that vein when the power abruptly went out on us last night. 

“At least I’m not in the back corner of the basement running on the treadmill,” I thought to myself as I heard Rob shriek as he was pummeled backwards into the wall as a result of the sudden cessation of forward momentum.

Having the lights go out is romantic. 

Until you remember that you have two kids, a dog, and a house that relies on well water for all of the necessary amenities.  AND that you have only just recently won the annual “it’s cold enough to turn on the furnace” debate (which is now suddenly a moot point).  And that your husband is a big smelly I-just-ran-on-the-treadmill-and-I’m-sweating-all-over-and-there’s-no-water-to-take-a-shower-with-mess.

If that doesn’t zap all romance out of the situation I don’t know what does.

And so we frantically ran around the house, putting extra blankets on sleeping kids, trying to figure out what lights and appliances needed to be turned off, how to light the gas fire place, where the batteries to our flashlights were and calling Hydro One to report what must have been the 93,000 home to lose powered.

(Let me just pause for a moment to smugly add that I at NO POINT needed to use the single can opener or the canned food I had been so ARDENTLY cautioned to keep in stock by the local radio announcer)

We finally put all practicality aside and went to bed for the night only to be awoken 7 hours later by a hungry, and rather impatient almost-2-year old’s repetitive request, “LIGHT – ON!  Light – ON!”  And back into action we sprang!  Complete darkness and intense coldness embraced our 7am bodies as we scurried around the house lighting candles in an attempt to mitigate the effect these dire conditions would have on our sensitive (light requesting) 2 year old.  Finally the house was as good as it was going to get and we went in to get our frustrated Mia out of her crib.

They say that seeing the world through the eyes of a child makes everything better.

And they were right.  Mia didn’t care that she was cold, nor that the wind was still howling against our house.  As we prepared ourselves for her usual terse remarks about the abysmally dark and sad state of our house, Mia burst into song.

“Happy TOOOO!!!!” she shouted excitedly, clapping her hands together, “Happy TOOO!!!!!” she sang as her bewildered eyes took in the myriad of candles we had lit around the house.

Mia, always ready for a party, had taken one look at all the candles and made the obvious assumption: she had woken up to someone’s birthday party.