HOKEY 'NADO!

We woke up this morning after a rooough night of sleep restlessness at a whopping 9:00 and to the tune of a tornado watch and high wind warning... in effect until 8 pm TOMORROW night.

Awesome.

If you think I didn't load up an emergency bag of snacks, toys, rice cereal, complete with a flashlight and blanket, then you have highly underestimated my crazy and the effect living in the heart of Tornado Alley had on me for the first 10 years of my life. The bag is placed strategically on the washing machine so I can grab it on our way if we have to take cover and go down to the basement.  I'm telling you, when the "Tornado Watch" hits the lower right hand corner of the TV, I regress to multiple points in my childhood where the sky was churning with green clouds, the wind was screaming through the window screens, and I was ready to have a panic attack, because no matter what the Weather Channel said about the best way to take cover, THERE WERE NO BASEMENTS IN TEXAS, and we were for sure going to get blown away with the storm like Mickey Mouse and all his pals on that freaky movie we watched at my grandma's house. (Not ringing a bell?  Click HERE to watch.)

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You will NOT BELIEVE what occured just moments after that last sentence was typed.  I will recount it for you because the irony of it is REMARKABLE.

 I can't make this kind of stuff up, friends.

As I was typing "house" above, I get a call from my dad telling me they just evacuated his building and am I watching the news and have I gotten my hiney down to the basement and can I hear the sirens.

Of course I'm watching the news....and blogging....and drinking green tea....and listening to Newbie squawk in his exersaucer- and, hold on, Daddy- the Hubs is beeping in.

I answer the other line and the Hubs informs me his building, just blocks away from our house, is being evacuated and am I watching the news and have I gotten my hiney down to the basement and can I hear the sirens.

I hang up and go outside.

Yes, I hear the sirens.

Yes, I nearly wet my pants.

Blogging about being prepared for a tornado while the tornado sirens wail outside= Family Tornado Emergency Plan FAIL!

So Newbie and I go all hands on deck and grab the partially packed emergency bag from the washer on our way down to the basement.

Only you know what isn't helpful in an emergency?  A partially packed emergency bag.  As in, NO diapers, NO binkies, NO water, and NO radio. 

Emergency Bag FAIL!

So I risk life and limb and run upstairs to the first floor and grab a binkie and the diaper bag and then throw in ALL MY CHIPS and run all the way upstairs to Newbie's room to grab the radio.

At this point, I am convinced I will be swept away with Mickey and the gang never to be heard from again because the sirens are blaring and I'm racing around the house AND WHAT IS MY NAME AND WHERE ARE MY OREOS?!?

By the time I get downstairs, Opie is freaking out, so I grab his curly tailed butt and haul him down to the basement with me.

By now I am perspiring and can't remember who I am or where I came from.

Also, my hiney is wet, and I can't remember if I wet myself or if I sat in some bat guano or water pipe drain-off in our creepy crawly dungeon of a basement.

So me and the gang sit there and gripe at each other and share the woes and misery of hanging out in a basement without the Bossman around to tell us its OK, and don't worry, and you're all a bunch of wimps, this will blow over and we'll be feasting on our Oreos in no time. 

Then I commence texting some of my girlfriends who were also in the warning zone because misery loves company and there's nothing like sharing the trauma of having sick babies in the basement during nap time.

Finally we get the "all clear" on the radio and I haul Newbie and Opie and the baby bouncer and the diaper bag and the emergency pack and my wet hiney up the stairs.

NO SOONER do I set everything down in the living room and decide its time for a diaper change then THE SIRENS START BLARING AGAIN signifying the warning has been re-issued.

You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me.

So I grab everything up off the floor, take my little man and his wet diapered buns back down to the basement and tell Opie to kiss his hiney good bye because I'm not lugging him down there again. 

Harsh?  Sure.  Necessary?  Absolutely.

So we set up camp in the nasty basement again and while Newbie starts kung-fooing the bouncer he is now way too big for, I start making a list of Honey-Do's involving clearing out a space in the basement for emergencies such as these that includes a carpeted area, a portable refrigerator, Internet access, a diaper changing table, a crib, and preferably a Dairy Queen. 

Finally we get the "all clear" on Round 2, and I haul my team back up the stairs, change a blow-out diaper Newbie manufactured just as the "all clear" came through, plop him in the swing for a nap, and here I sit, blogging about the IRONY of the whole thing.

BECAUSE WHAT ARE THE CHANCES?!?!?

Moral of the story:  Pack a COMPLETE emergency bag, never turn your back on the local weather channel while blogging, wear diapers in case of emergency, and if you've got one, don't let your husband go to work because the whole brew-ha-ha would be a lot easier with someone a little more level-headed in control.  Most importantly, never let the crazy lady be in charge of executing the Family Emergency Plan because it will be an enormous FAIL.

Here's documentation of The Event, taken with my cell phone in the midst of the chaos:

Trip to the basement, Round One.  Note the pink, partially packed emergency bag and the brown diaper bag in the background.  Also the nasty cement floor, walls, and the various surrounding buckets and boxes filled with I-don't-wanna-know.

Trip to the basement Round Two.  Notice the second bouncer, it was easier to snag and Newbie kung-fu-ing it because it's too small for him.  Again, various bags and buckets of nasty.  And the kennel to the left that Opie filled on Round One, but not Round Two.

Me.  Middle of Round Two.  Going a little more than a little nuts.



The last time this happened, Newbie was a lot smaller.  If you recall, we lived out a similar scenario early in the summer just weeks after he was born:

The times, they are a'changin'.  And the wind, it is a' blowin'. And the Mama?

She's a' goin' bonkers. 

Tune in later for a full recap on what it is like to drive to a well child appointment during a High Wind Advisory.  I'm guessing it will make for some good reading.

Fair thee well.