Severe Weather In The South

It is spring time in the South. Flowers are blooming, birds are singing, open toe shoes are being dusted off and allergies are raging. What else do the warmer temps bring? Severe weather.

If you grew up here, then you know what I am talking about. Severe weather can happen at any time, but spring is when our threat is the highest. When I was single, all I had to worry about was myself. Now I have four little people who I have to protect. That is a major.

I am never caught off guard by severe weather. In the South, they like to alert you at least a week in advance, if there is a chance of severe storms. I appreciate the heads up, but a week ahead only gives me more time to worry. Since I was young, I have been terrified of tornadoes. I remember once in first grade, we had a tornado drill at school. Except no one told me that it was a drill. I sat in the hall and cried, awaiting our impending demise.

So if there is even a chance of bad storms in the forecast, I will be monitoring the weather, no matter the hour. The last time we had a chance, I was watching my local news channel, as the rest of my family slept. They are so fortunate to have Mom to worry for them. It all began with the dreaded weather radio alert. If you live in areas prone to severe weather, then you should invest in one of these. They alert you to bad weather moving into your area. This time it was a tornado warning. This means that a tornado had been indicated by radar, and we are supposed to take cover immediately.

So what do I do? I have a long-standing rule that you never wake a sleeping child, when it’s still dark outside. That rule was actually a continuance of the rule that you never wake a sleeping baby. Ever. But for a tornado chance? You drag the kids out of bed.

At the sound of the alarm, my husband…….didn’t even move. He continued to sleep right through the piercing, terrifying sound, which I equate with death and destruction. So my first task was to rouse him from the bed, as I needed him to help me mobilize the sleepy troops.

Once I had him up, we raced for the children. As everyone knows, waking children, especially in the dead of the night is no easy task. It pretty much turns into us carrying them downstairs. The only way I was able to convince them to be any help at all, was to tell them that they could bring their bedding, and go back to sleep in the closet.

We head for the closet with four children, their pillows, blankets and 27 stuffed animals. It is amazing the things that you will agree to, in order to bribe your children, to fall in line. I mean screaming “WE COULD ALL DIE” didn’t seem to do the trick, so I went with the next best thing.

Now, the luckiest of those families have a storm shelter in their homes. This is where you can go into a steel enclosure that is underground. If you do not have one of these, then you are supposed to go into the smallest room in the middle of the house, on the lowest floor. For us, this is a closet.

When we bought the house, I was amazed at how large the downstairs closet was. We packed it with coats and games and sports balls and Christmas decor. It was amazing. The funny thing is, when you try to stuff six people and all of their bedding AND a 2 pound princess-dog in there, it does NOT seem quite so large.

One of the rules of tornado safety is to have your head protected. We leave football and bike helmets in the closet for such occasions. My kids know that they are required to put one on immediately. After all helmets are in place, then we sit, and wait.

It is really not that bad in here…….for the first minute anyway. My kids are little and their attention spans and fuses are even smaller. All it takes is one cross look or an accidental touch from a sibling, to ignite the spark. My role is to try to keep this from happening.

The first fuss begins over who is going to hold Princess Leni Kravitz (the two-pound dog). The only way to keep the peace is to hold her myself. Each child is appeased with this decision, because although they each want to hold her, they do not want the others holding her, even more.

Next comes the confusion over which pillow belongs to which child. They all have the same pillow case, so there is really no way to identify. Each child assumes that someone has mixed up the pillows. Then the tug-o-wars begin. Mind you, there is no extra room in the closet, with us all packed in there, so elbows and knees are hitting me in the face and ribs. I declare that all pillows are about to be banned from the closet, if the brouhaha does not cease. After two rounds of swapping, everyone is convinced that they have the correct pillow.

How long have we been in here? Two minutes. This is when it starts getting hot and incredibly stuffy. All of the children now complain that they are ALL about to pass out. This is when the once coveted pillows, begin to fly around the room, like hot potatoes, because NOW no one wants one touching them.

I now have four pillows stacked in my lap. And on top, a two-pound princess dog.

Next the cries of distress break out because everyone has to pee. If they do not get to the bathroom RIGHT THIS MINUTE we are all going to be sitting in a massive puddle. I cannot risk their safety to let them go. Not until the danger has passed. I will just have to endure the simultaneous pleads from all. four. kids. How long have we been in here? Three minutes.

This could not be any worse. How could this be any worse? What is that smell? Great. Now someone has passed gas. It just got worse.

Finally when the incredibly shrinking closet is about to burst with complaints and tears and sweat and odor, I hear the weather person from the TV, tell us that it is all clear and we can come out of our place of safety. I open that door and it is like a volcano eruption of people and bedding, spilling out of the closet. The dog immediately runs away, as though she would have rather perished in a storm. We did it. We survived.

I am completely elated that we are all safe. We survived both the bad weather, and being locked in small quarters with one another. Now the only question is what to do with four wide-awake kids at 2 o’clock in the morning. Gotta love living in the South.

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