We, along with a huge portion of the US, were riddled with storms last night. Thankfully our area remained untouched by tornadoes, but I can't say the same for poor Alabama. I think it's safe to assume that everyone will be happy when April is over. Hopefully all these April "showers" will bring some lovely May flowers.
The thunder started to rumble when we were at soccer practice last night; we quickly gathered up all the gear and made it home before rain started to fall. As soon as we walked in the door, Caroline, weather nerd extraordinaire, was glued to the Weather Channel. At one point, a tornado warning, along with a request to take immediate shelter, was issued for Fort Belvoir. Since Fort Belvoir is two miles from our house, Caroline started to get a little spooked.
"Relax," I told her.
"It'll be fine," I said rather zen-like. Because I'm nothing if not zen-like.
Instead of freaking out, seeking appropriate shelter and protecting my first and only child from imminent danger, what do you think I did?
Why, I grabbed my camera and took pictures of the sky, of course.
Hello, responsible parenting.
I was secretly hoping to be an indoor, protected-by-the-storm-door, storm chaser.
Alas, the tornado never happened.
How is it that I can spend hours fretting about errand running logistics or how much milk I have in the refrigerator but the prospect of a damaging tornado doesn't incite in me any anxiety or worry?
Go figure, eh?
I suppose a part of me doesn't want to get Caroline freaked out; if I stay calm, she stays calm. But also, I think storms are all kinds of awesome.
The sky has looked threatening all day today, but aside from a few sprinkles, we've remained safe and unscathed. Tomorrow is supposed to be lovely and mild. I had planned to run in the promised gorgeous weather, but it looks like I'll be field tripping it third grade style, instead.
Tomorrow the third graders are going to the Museum of Natural History. My name didn't get picked in the chaperon lottery, but that didn't exactly make me cry. Who wants to ride a school bus into Washington DC with a bunch of screaming third graders?
Um, not me. That's who.
Honestly, I wasn't exactly bummed that my name wasn't picked. I only volunteered because Caroline wanted me to. Last year I managed to escape chaperone duties, too. It's just not my thang; I'd rather stuff folders and glue things.
Feel free to send me my Mother of the Year award any time.
Caroline's teacher said he felt bad that I wasn't picked (it was a random hat draw), because I'm one of the classes' main parent volunteers, but I tried to assure him that I really didn't mind. Quite honestly, words cannot express how relieved I felt to not be picked. It was like the opposite of being picked last in gym class. This, in my opinion was the greatest oversight ever. EVER. A wonderful, magical, off-the-hook-from-wrangling-obnoxious-third-graders oversight.
Should I give you my address so that you can mail that Mother of the Year award right to my house?
However, because some
Up until this morning, I planned to be my usual selfish self and forgo the field trip thing to do the run thing, instead.
That is, however, until this moring when Caroline's teacher once again reminded me that I could join them at the museum tomorrow. He's very persuasive in a non-persuasive kind of way.
So, I guess I'm going on a field trip tomorrow.
Guilt: 1 Run: 0