Thar she blows...

Ok so where is the baby book entry for first time crammed in the downstairs powder room in the middle of the night with mommy, a dog and two cats, with sirens blaring and daddy sticking his head out the door saying it's not that bad?

Legend has it that I once too was crammed into a closet as a small child along with my cousin Breanna during a scary tornado warning. My sister was a day or so old and she and my mom were still in the hospital. I don't really recall that episode and the only vague memory I have is of my dad carrying me in one arm and Breanna in the other through a torrential downpour in the hospital parking lot. Apparently he took us to my Aunt Julie's house where she proceeded to stash us in a coat closet.

Growing up in the "tornado alley" of Western Kentucky, I have experienced many a warning in my lifetime. And you can bet your sweet bippy I quickly lodged myself in the basement hugging my battery powered radio. Michael was alternately unaffected by his first few months of life spent in the real tornado alley in Kansas. Although he did go on to spend the majority of his childhood in a tropical paradise, yet far enough inland to be safe from the brunt of hurricane season.

Still, last night was pretty comical in hindsight. Michael grabbed Wyatt (who slept soundly through the whole ordeal) while I tried to coax the animals downstairs and into the powder room with treats. I nearly had two of the three in when Jack (our 50 pound dog) turned around and ran upstairs and planted himself back in our bed. I could not get him to budge so I picked him up and carried him down and into the bathroom. I took Wyatt from Michael and sat on the toliet, trying to figure out why I couldn't get Bill Meck to come on the radio station I was listening to and waiting for the roof to blow off. (By the way, I have since learned that Bill Meck is now on Z103 during storms - thanks Julie!) I never did get Michael or one of the cats in there with us, that would have been a tight squeeze. The storm blew over very quickly and we were back in bed within 30 minutes with Wyatt still sawing logs.

I have to say these storms are quite a different experience when there is a little one involved. I can't imagine having to cram us all into that room if we were in real danger. In the end, I was proved to be the over-reacting control freak that we all know I can be. But since Wyatt was unconscious during the entire process I have no doubt he will remain untraumatized and I will have a chance to play it more calm and collected next time.

Here are some pictures of our weary storm survivor that I took today. You can see the horror on his face!!!