Spring is so bittersweet

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My little team of meteorology experts have compounded in the closet where they are safe from tornadoes, lightning, hail, thunder... whatever the aggressor. They have emergered to see if I'm up and to hunt up some snacks. Apparently maraschino cherries banish fear. I should stock the pantry.

Leila and Tre are napping, safe and sound in the cover of darkness in my bedroom like the sweet angels they are.

I dread these kinds of storms because usually Kennedy breaks out in hives and at least one of them throws up because their nerves get wound so tight. There are volitile swings for the entirety of the storm- giggling and laughing at every boom of thunder as they duck under the covers, to pale faces and sheer panic as the severe weather station breaks through the airwaves to alert listeners. It's no wonder they sleep so hard when it's all over.

It's 4:04pm. I am supposed to go to work at 7:00pm. The tornado watch expires at 10:00pm. We are in for an interesting evening with two babysitters lined up and Dale miles from home. Bring on the rain.

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