I'm not sure how I expected today to go. In retrospect, I'm not sure it really could have gone any other way. I wouldn't say it is the WORST scenario for a stay-at-home parent, but it's certainly an unpleasant one.
For days I've been looking at the weather report and hoping that the meteorologists were wrong. You know, like they usually are. For some reason, however, some upstart intern over at weather.com was actually doing his job and got the prediction correct. Rain. And not just any rain, but severe thunderstorms. And not just severe thunderstorms, but tornado-creating severe thunderstorms, scheduled for the entire day and into tomorrow.
So I decide that it is best not to go out into the tempest that is surely going to start any second now... just looking outside too hard might cause it to drizzle in protest. It would not be wise taking your child to the park when a tornado could pop in at any time and say "Hey, wazzup? Mind if I crash here? kthxbye!" Adelaide had stayed up late the night before, so I figured that she might sleep in a little. No such luck. She was awake and screaming at 6:30, and I was still dead tired. By lunch, Addy had played with the train set, read books, built with her blocks, played music, poured water through various containers, played with her little kitchen set, colored, chased the cat, rearranged the DVDs, tried to kill herself numerous times (usually involving great heights and precarious footholds), and... yes... watched TV. I was running out of ideas. Most of the things I tried with her didn't last very long before she would start to cry again. I figured that she just missed mommy, and frankly, so did I.
When it was finally time to put her down for a nap at 1, the rain decided to come. And boy, did it come down. It was, unfortunately, loud enough to wake Addy up and keep her from going back to sleep. So now I am stuck dealing with a bored, napless toddler in the middle of a downpour. I know I'm not the best dad in the world, but I try. This time, however, I'm running on coffee (of which I rarely partake), and I'm not sure what else to do. The internet was down, and all she wanted to do was have me hold her... so I put on another movie. I know the experts say to not let her watch TV until she's 2, but we're just going to have to deal with the consequences now, aren't we? I do eventually get some chores done, and she decides she would like to wander around the house crying instead of just doing it in my lap.
After a while, I, in my holmesian attention to detail, notice that her head is warm. Actually, it's quite hot. Now Adelaide has been teething her molars for quite some time, so I figure that is likely the culprit. I will be keeping an eye on her. Of course, we're out of medicine for her. By this point it is nearing 4:30. I look outside and the rain has really let up. We had been in a tornado warning (not just watch, WARNING, as in danger Will Robinson) until 4:30, so I figure it's a good idea to go out to the store and get some children's tylenol.
I dress her warmly and bundle her in my coat, then run through the rain to the car to keep her as dry and warm as possible. The store is about 2 minutes away, so I'm sure this trip will be nothing special. And it was, until about 2.7 seconds before I parked. I pull into the closest parking spot to the grocery store and the sky opens up. Still, it's not THAT far, and I've got a huge umbrella. I can keep Addy dry. Grabbing the umbrella, I step out into the deluge only to have it instantly become something akin to Niagara Falls. I expect to see an ark floating down the street anytime, if I could see that far. The worst part wasn't the rain... I was stuck with one leg in the back seat, the other outside, trying to hold onto the umbrella as the wind picked up. I'd like to say that I've felt strong winds before, but they've never actually been strong enough to threaten tearing an umbrella out of my hand, unbalance me, and make it just a little harder to breathe. I shut the umbrella, get soaked, and climb into the backseat next to the car seat with the door slammed shut. And wait.
Addy is having a great time as the car is rocked from the wind and pelted with liquid sky bullets. I am having a heart attack. Strange vibrations were passing through the ground and into the car like I was on a bridge and some truck was driving over it a few feet away. I could hear trucks, or trains, but I really have no idea if I did or not. I couldn't see anything out of the window. I wait, praying that it's just my imagination and not an actual tornado. There was no way I could keep Addy warm and dry in this. It doesn't seem to be letting up, so I squeeze to the front seat and start up the car to park it under the little drive-up pharmacy. Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Never used it. Well, it works, and not only will they give you prescription medicines, but they'll also help you out and give you children's tylenol!
I wish I could say that was the end of the weather problems for the day, but it wasn't. Now I've got tornados on the brain. Every time a train goes by, I swear it's a tornado. And my heart clings onto my tonsils when the radio is interrupted while I'm cooking dinner with an Emergency Broadcast System message. "Tornados have been seen in the following counties:" it starts off, then begins listing from North Carolina and heading closer to me. When they stop at "Greenville County," I give a sigh of relief and realize I was already contemplating how quickly I could throw Addy in the bathtub and if I would have time to wrangle the cats. If I could only save one, which would it be?
The rest of the day was relatively normal sans mommy. Which is to say, the next hour. Hopefully she will be feeling well enough tomorrow that we can head out to Wiggles and Giggles, but we'll see.
No comments:
Post a Comment