At Least It Wasn't Thunder Snow
With all due respect to Alan Jay Lerner and Frederick Loewe (uh, no I didn't have to look that up), I do not understand the appeal of the following lyrics:
Last night we had what I believe was the fifth nighttime thunderstorm since March. Since we live in Virginia, and since it is technically still spring, and since there is no such thing as global warning, I must conclude that this weather pattern is an aberration. That doesn't make my situation more bearable.
Last night around 1 am, the storm woke Marty who then needed to crawl into bed with me. When I woke up around 5 am at the edge of the bed with Marty plastered to the side of me, I saw that Lauren had joined us, and she in Marty were in a whispered discussion about rising and shining. Since the storm was over I took Marty back to his bed and tossed a threat at Lauren that she'd better be quiet (I would have sent Lauren packing too, but I was not in the mood for a 15 minute debate on the topic of where she should sleep). Lauren and I eventually got back to sleep, but that sort of night's sleep is not really conducive to having a great productive day.
Several weeks ago, all three of them got in bed with me, and there was nothing I could do. The storm was scary and sending them off in the dark would probably just have spawned repeat visits where they woke me and asked if they could stay. But several days ago we had a thunderstorm during the day, when Lauren and Marty were busy playing in the toyroom. Marty called out "Mommy, I'm afraid of the storm" in the same sing-song he uses to say "Mommy, Lauren's not playing nicely." So apparently they are ready to face thunderstorms during the day (Marty was just covering his bases, going on record that he was still afraid so he could point to it later as evidence), and yet all of our thunderstorms keep coming at night. So let's reprise:
The rain may never fall till after sundown.
By eight, the morning fog must disappear.
In short, there's simply not
A more congenial spot
For happily-ever-aftering than here
In Camelot.
Last night we had what I believe was the fifth nighttime thunderstorm since March. Since we live in Virginia, and since it is technically still spring, and since there is no such thing as global warning, I must conclude that this weather pattern is an aberration. That doesn't make my situation more bearable.
Last night around 1 am, the storm woke Marty who then needed to crawl into bed with me. When I woke up around 5 am at the edge of the bed with Marty plastered to the side of me, I saw that Lauren had joined us, and she in Marty were in a whispered discussion about rising and shining. Since the storm was over I took Marty back to his bed and tossed a threat at Lauren that she'd better be quiet (I would have sent Lauren packing too, but I was not in the mood for a 15 minute debate on the topic of where she should sleep). Lauren and I eventually got back to sleep, but that sort of night's sleep is not really conducive to having a great productive day.
Several weeks ago, all three of them got in bed with me, and there was nothing I could do. The storm was scary and sending them off in the dark would probably just have spawned repeat visits where they woke me and asked if they could stay. But several days ago we had a thunderstorm during the day, when Lauren and Marty were busy playing in the toyroom. Marty called out "Mommy, I'm afraid of the storm" in the same sing-song he uses to say "Mommy, Lauren's not playing nicely." So apparently they are ready to face thunderstorms during the day (Marty was just covering his bases, going on record that he was still afraid so he could point to it later as evidence), and yet all of our thunderstorms keep coming at night. So let's reprise:
The rain may never fall till after sunrise
By noon the swings and trampoline must dry
In short there cannot be
A moment's peace or glee
For mommy 'til the thunderclouds roll by
In Old Fort Lee.
posted by Shannon at 6:47 PM
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