This morning I woke up around 5:30 to rattling windows and rumbling floors. Huge claps and long rolls of thunder were shaking the house one right after the other. The lightening lit up the room. I snuggled down in my blankets, listened for the boys, and enjoyed the spring storm.
I have always loved thunderstorms. They give me such a warm, cozy feeling. And looking back on it I know my mom worked hard to create those feelings during storms. From very little on she would take me out on our front porch to spot the lightening and watch the rain dance. We would wrap up in blankets during the colder storms and eat cherries and spit the pits out over the railing during warmer storms. She would ooh with each bolt of lightening and ahh with each smack of thunder. Her enthusiasm was catching. Because of her love of thunderstorms I was never afraid.
Now, having my own kids, I am following my mom's lead. Instead of storms being something scary they are fun and comforting. During storms we read books, or watch out the window. We go out on the front porch with popsicles. We snuggle close together. We fight to be the first one to spot the lightening, and laugh at the low-rumbling thunder farts. (such boys)
This morning I was so excited to wake up to the first big storm of the year. I stayed in bed for an hour listening and dreaming. When I finally got out of bed I made myself a cup of coffee and went out on the front porch to watch the sky. I decided this would be the perfect opportunity to let the boys join in the fun. I got them out of bed, let them bring them bring their lambie and blankie (which usually stay in their beds) downstairs, got them some juice (which is normally reserved for special occasions), and brought them out on the front porch with me. We watched as the hard rain flooded the street. We watched the nonstop lightening. We listened to the rolling thunder go on and on. It was fun. It was cozy. It was special. It was a perfect way to start the day.