How blonde is this: I have been so busy with my projects and a sick kiddo that I didn't know until last night there was a tropical storm in the gulf! I never watch TV. Or if I do turn it on it's because two hours of toddler whimpering and whining have melted my resolve to not show movies to children under 2 and I'm desperate for Disney to save me from my torturer.
Brian is calmly lying on the couch, listening to the storm forecast. I'm on the edge of the couch feeling about as prepared as the Galvestonians were in the fall of 1900. Sure, it's going to completely miss us but it's the RAIN I'm worried about. A solid week of storms means I'll be locked in the house with Aiden, unable to take him to the pool or park. Even more fun will be trying to let Major outside durring the torrential downpours. I'll be fighting to keep a screaming, angry Aiden, who wants to follow the dog out, dry inside the house while trying to coax a soaking wet dog onto a towel and topping him with another towel before he can shake water across the house. Which never works and Aiden ends up slipping on the tiniest puddle of water, sending him completely over the edge and into one of his horrible tantrums that usually end in comatose-like sleep because he's exerted so much energy. Just the thought of all of this makes me want to dress him in swim trunks for seven days and let him get rain drenched on the porch, just to ensure he gets the fresh air he needs. Maybe watching the storms and doodling with that bucket of sidewalk chalk I haven't opened will be a fun new activity I can keep him occupied with.