The kids are on spring break this week, which I have to admit is nice. I'm over all this homework, struggling to provide proper motivation for said homework, grumpy moods from forcing said homework to be completed, running from school to school to accommodate schedules...bring on summer!
My kids are early risers. Like 6:00 am early risers. So it's not uncommon for them to be playing downstairs while we are still in bed. It's also not uncommon for them to sneak candy from the candy cupboard, which they have both pinkie promised me they wouldn't do again and which they both lie through their little teeth about having done until I wave the poorly hidden candy bar wrapper in their suspicious angel faces. Sigh. Now I have to come up with another candy cache consequence. Blarg.
Anyway, since there was nowhere to go this morning, I was attempting to sleep in a bit.
That's when the storm hit.
I was awake but trying hard not to be when I heard a very distant rumble of thunder. Before the thunder had rumbled itself out, a mere seven seconds or so, my kids had raced upstairs, burst through the bedroom door and pounced on me. Their chocolate-speckled faces (clue #1 that another candy sneaking caper had ensued) stared up at me in horror, their giant blue eyes bugged out in fear of our imminent and certain doom.
They both snuggled tight against me under the covers and we listened to the rain fall. We counted seconds between lightening flashes and thunder rolls. I tried for the 2,937th time to explain how most storms aren't anything to be frightened of, especially when we're safe inside our home. How they're actually pretty cool.
They weren't buying it.
While we were huddled together under the covers, they came up with an interesting spin on the God bowling theory. Sam thinks that God moves his bowling alley around a lot, which is why storms move around so much. When the sky gets darker as the storm approaches, it's actually the shadow of God's bowling ball rolling down his heavenly mobile bowling alley and that giant celestial ball, of course, is what makes the thunder boom. Lena added that the rain gets harder when the thunder gets louder because there are too many angels bowling with God and God gets sad that it's not his turn yet, so he cries harder.
I adore how their little minds see things. I adore snuggling in bed during a storm with them tight against me. I adore hearing their wandering thoughts. I adore that they feel safe with me and that, when I put my arms around them, everything is all right.
Being a mom can be tough and terrifying and insane and grisly.
But most of the time, being a mom rocks.