Goodnight, Irene: Alternatively Titled I Love Electricity

I can now say that five out of six of us have experienced our first hurricane (Erin, a New Orleans native is an old pro). And I'm here to tell you I do not need to do that again for a while.

Sunday morning began early, with the cringe inducing thud of the power going out. We sort of knew it was inevitable, it was just a matter of when and for how long. I was nursing the babies when I heard the tell-tale "thud" around 3 a.m. The little sound machine that sits on our bedroom floor next to the crib stopped, the air conditioner silenced and of course, the lights (bathroom, outside): out.

The rain had started around 2 p.m. Saturday and was relentless, battering, Noah's Ark kind of rain. I let the kids play outside for a little bit before the winds came (figuring we'd likely be trapped in the house for a good 24 hours--see above). They are always up for an occasion that requires rain coats and umbrellas.

The winds didn't come until Sunday morning and oh did they come. But a quick peak at the sump in our basement told the saddest tale of all. No power=no sump pump and the waters were rising. Erin bailed. Then I bailed. It hardly made a dent. Our sweet next-door neighbors texted us to see if we needed anything. For some strange reason their power had been restored while ours had not (even though they're just next to us they're on a different power grid). I told them our tale of woe and they responded immediately: Did we need anything? Ice for the melting fridge? Coffee? Babysitters while we bailed?

Did someone say coffee?

Then Erin then had the brilliant idea to plug our sump pump into the neighbors' house (which is so close we can practically stick our hand in their living room window).

SUCCESS!

But perhaps most brilliant of all was her next idea, which was to plug the DVD player and TV into the neighbors' power so that Leo and Ellie would leave us alone for ten minutes. Let's just say between the bailing and the babies and the trapped in the house for twelve hours with no power? It had been a long morning.

And in case anyone is wondering I do not think Leo or Ellie would last long on the prairie (not that I would either). Around 4 p.m. Sunday afternoon the whole house buzzed with the beautiful sound of the power being restored. I whine endlessly here but really we were the lucky ones. Friends close and far on the east coast suffered so much more than we did, not to mention the poor people in parts of the mid-Atlantic and New England and New York and even parts of New Jersey just a few miles from us.

The next morning the sky was bluer and clearer then I've seen it in a long time. The coffee pot was on and full and wafting its gorgeous scent of Stumptown throughout the house, the dishwasher was churning and all the towels, soiled from the basement antics the day before were clean and gracefully spinning around in the dryer. Truly the calm after the storm.

And the battery back-up for the sump pump? It's on its way.