Better Late Than Never: Hurricane Irene Edition

Because life just wasn't exciting enough lately, let's throw in a hurricane!

Yes, there I was this morning at Target, the poster-child for online shopping thanks to a shrieking Harry. Then the usually placid Lucy joined in and it was a good old infant crying chorus. Cue the looks of pity. And horror, as I steered the twin caboose down the aisles (trust me when I say that thing does not take corners well), while balancing a hysterical Harry on my shoulder. Well what can I say but you can't shop online for supplies for a hurricane (you know, beer, wine--HAHA KIDDING) that's coming, you know, tomorrow.

Did I mention they were completely out of flashlights? Good thing we have those Disney Princess and Toy Story flashlights fully charged. Yes, that's how we roll.

Actually, my sources are now saying the storm may not be as bad as feared. But still. All those dang trees surrounding us. And the basement and our beloved new carpet? Oy.

Speaking of material concerns (I'm also hoping this isn't swept away in the looming maybe-hurricane), behold:

It came last week and all I can say is WHY DIDN'T WE GET THIS BACK IN JUNE OUR SUMMER COULD HAVE BEEN SO MUCH HAPPIER.

Sorry. Not screaming. Not screaming at all. Anyway, all that matters is that we have it now and I think it's safe to say Leo and Ellie love it.


The day it was installed the kids were at camp. We planned to surprise them when Erin came home from work but there was a massive storm (it fell as dark as night around 5 p.m.) and knowing they'd demand to play on it instantly, rain be damned, we waited until the next morning (a Saturday). How cruel would it have been to say "oh looky a brand new play structure you can't go on because it's raining!" So I closed the kitchen blinds and hurried them in the house from the car that afternoon so that they wouldn't see the gleaming new play palace.

The next morning Leo peered through the window in our bedroom overlooking the backyard and, well, now I know what it sounds like when a seven year old boy has his breath taken away. He gasped. Gasped! And then of course sped downstairs to throw on his galoshes. To play outside. At 5:47 in the morning.