Last week, which started so well with victories in laundry land, turned into a bit of an exercise in survival. The crazy storm caused a power line to snap - I know this because I almost drove into it as it whipped around in the air like some crazy spark-emitting snake - and resulted in us having no electricity for two days. No big deal, we thought. We like camping, we can do without TV, plus we love soup.
Everything was going along fine that first 24 hours without power until we went to bed and realized that a one-year-old can not keep himself warm in a house that has dropped in temperature to 35 degrees, even if he is wearing 3 layers of clothes. Even if he lays curled up with his mommy who is also wearing 3 layers of clothes he can not get warm enough to fall asleep. This is not a funny paragraph - I was actually scared and angry and realizing REALLY fast how fortunate I am to have everything I do have. We survived the night just fine once we got into bed with Moses, who is freakishly warm at night. (For the record, daddy volunteered several times to lay with baby to warm him up but I was afraid that he would accidentally crush him and not even realize it in his deep sleep - he's almost done the same thing to me a few times.)
So on the morning of day 2 without power we threw in the towel and went to my in-laws' house for some warmth, a shower, etc. A cozy night there caught us all up on sleep and we woke on Friday morning ready to go on our mini vacation to Twain Harte, where we heard it was snowing. While Brett got some work done, the boys and I dashed home (the power was finally back on but it was cold as an ice box) packed our snow gear, filled up the car, picked up daddy, and drove 3 hours to the mountains.
It was snowing and it was gorgeous! We unpacked everything and spent an hour sledding down the driveway until it got too dark to avoid crashing into the cars that had been snowed in on the road. We went into the house, changed out of our wet clothes, sat down to eat dinner, and... the power went out.
And I, who am typically up for anything, especially survival-type adventures, began to behave uncharacteristically. First, I cried (and deep down I honestly believe only sissies cry about things like the power going out). Then I said a very high-maintenance and demanding thing in a borderline-crazy tone of voice: "I will not stay here if the power is not on. I refuse to do another night with a freezing cold baby." This behavior caught Brett off-guard, and even though he totally wanted to stay and "all sleep right next to the propane fire place" (ahem - carbon monoxide poisoning anyone?) he knew there was no reasoning with me. So after going outside for about an hour to do whatever it is men do when confronted with an impossible, high-maintenance, sissy of a wife, he came back in and repacked EVERYTHING we had brought by candlelight, reloaded the truck, and drove us 3 hours back home. Bless his heart, he didn't even roll his eyes at me.
After unpacking again in our now-warm house, we ended up having a very nice weekend. We walked around the property surveying the damage from the storm, which is where these pictures came from. I learned a lot of lessons over a few days of having no electricity - it has happened to us many times before, but never in the dead of winter and never with a little baby to care for. I am so grateful for the easy life we have, even though we live more simply than a lot of people I know. I am humbled to have so many things and live in such comfort while so many people in other parts of the world (and right here even) have so little. It is also just nice to be home. I hope you all are well and looking forward to a nice (warm) week.