The Eye of the Storm

If you live in the Midwest, you know that the weather can be a little crazy, especially this time of year.

This year has been no exception, and last week we had some crazy storms that produced tornadoes, and the next day it snowed. Go figure. None of the storms produced any major damage other than up rooted trees, power out, etc. Basic damage for our area. But in the moment, those storms seemed a bit more scary than usual.

Or at least, maybe they were more scary to me. I have a daughter who is adorable and only 7 months old. I got wind that there was a tornado warning, and I was a little more serious than I usually would be about getting into a shelter of some sort. Usually, I would actually probably be outside looking for the tornado.

To take cover, I needed to move an ill-placed dresser off the entrance to the crawl space in my house. I began calmly trying to wake my husband, who doesn't wake up well. The short of it is that we ended up yelling at each other because he didn't understand in his dream state why the tornado warning couldn't wait until the next morning because he didn't want to move the dresser right now. I was just being unreasonable.

He finally wakes up, grumpily moves the dresser, and we open the "door" in the floor. I look down, see a spider web, and I say, "Nope! Not going down there." I thought he was irritated before, but I was wrong. He ask why I refused, and I promptly replied, "There's a spider."

By this point, 10 minutes has passed. I am getting a bit hysterical because we lost precious time arguing over whether or not the tornado would hold off to morning. My brother is texting me updates from a city over, where the storm has already passed. Based on the Doppler and the live weather reports, he lets me know that the heart of the storm and the area with the potential tornado is coming right by my home. At this point I become ridiculously panicked, and begin picturing a scene from the movie Twister, where a cow goes flying by and a character says, "We have cows." Except in my mind, it isn't a cow flying through the air, but my baby. (I know, dramatic. But I was hysterical at this point.)

The obvious thing to do now since the crawl space has a cobweb over the opening is to grab the baby, throw some blankets in the bathtub, and assume the tornado drill position we learned in school over the baby in the bathtub. So there I am, over the baby, praying that we don't die. My husband is sitting on the toilet (not using it, just sitting there) looking at me like I've lost my mind. I frantically ask him to join us in the tub, but he declined and said he would take the risk.

I finally get the ok that the storm has passed, hop out of the tub, and put the baby in bed (she somehow slept through all of the hysteria). My husband stares at me one more time, shakes his head, and also returns to bed. I proceeded to stay up all night, just in case a tornado decided to come.It didn't. And we actually never had one confirmed in my immediate area. Whoops. 

I can't make this up, guys. All I can say is that having a baby makes normally routine situations terrifying. Have you ever had a situation that you blew out of proportion, and later realized maybe could have saved some embarrassment by staying a little more calm? 

#FlashBackFriday

I don't know about anyone else, but every so often I like to get out my old year books and chuckle with my friends about our hair, clothes, and antics in high school. The fun part of it? You guessed it - it's pretty embarrassing.

I started thinking, about a psychology blog I recently read that talked about overcoming embarrassment, and decided to really own this past me. Every Friday, we will "flash back" to my most awkward high school days and all get a good laugh at just how truly awkward I was.... am? Always will be? Whatever.

To start us off, we are going back to my sophomore year. Picture it: I'm getting ready for school, waiting for my ride. We had just moved into a new house, and my family was out of town. Besides our beds, furniture was not there, so I had a big wide open living room with a picture window and my cd player.

 I was getting dressed, and dancing around the living room. In my underwear. Think Tom Cruise in Risky Business.

**Key point** This is before cell phones were owned by every high school student ever.

So there I am, dancing around and putting my pants on (why was I getting dressed in the living room? I really have no clue) and singing at the top of my lungs. I'm mid word, turn around to the large front picture window, and see my friends standing there laughing. Did I mention two of my guy friends gave me a ride every day? Yea. And there they were. I screamed and fall on the hardwood floors, and they laugh harder.

So, while we all may dance in our underwear, most of us are smart enough to do so in true privacy. Me, well, I never was much of a thinker. My father in law likes to say that at least I'm pretty. Someday you'll see he means that kindly, because I just do some dumb stuff.

I do have to share I think my favorite part of this story. Last week as I was looking for inspiration, I ask one of those guys giving me a ride that day something embarrassing I'd done because I was stumped for inspiration. All he said was, "remember that time we picked you up and you were singing at the top of your lungs?"

Yea, Ryan. Yea. I remember.

As we continue to go back in my time, I will be trying to look at stories that I remember being embarrassing, but I also intend to get out my old high school journals. From there, I will push back my natural instinct to burn them and never look at them again, and I will read the awkward teenage angst filled memoires of my former life. And I will find those noteworthy moments that I never wanted to relive, and relive them with you. We're all in this together, right?

So make me feel better, what's something that you remember in high school that was just so mortifying? Did you think you would never get past it, or were you already learning to laugh at yourself?