Flashback

Because tomorrow marks the 1 year anniversary of Hurricane Ike and the beginning of all the 'fun' that came with it, I thought I would finally post about a somewhat related event that happened this summer.

A month or so ago we experienced a string of really hot days, even by Houston standards. I found myself annoyed that our air conditioner just couldn't keep up as I felt the temperature rising in the house. I finally realized it wasn't just me when the boys woke up groggy and sweaty after napping for only 20 minutes. The thermostat registered around 90 degrees inside the house by then, and that confirmed that our AC was not functioning properly, if at all.

I started to panic as I remembered how miserable it had gotten when we were without our AC (or electricity) for two weeks last summer. I had to remind myself that it would be a totally different ballgame because at least we could still run the ceiling fans. I am positive that sounds melodramatic, but if you had witnessed Ian's heat rash or experienced the ordeal at full term pregnancy, perhaps you would also panic at the thought.

I decided to be grateful for the fans and we parked our sweaty little selves under a ceiling fan to wait as patiently as we could for an AC repair man. The temperature inside neared 100 degrees, but, I kept telling myself, at least we had those ceiling fans.

And then the power went out.

That changed everything. I quickly packed the boys in the car and we left for the children's museum within 5 minutes.

The happy ending to the story is that the power was on within a few hours, an AC repairman came out at 7 am the next day, and by dinner time we were back in business. Thank heavens.

But we did experience a night without the AC. Because it does not cool off at night here, we decided to all sleep downstairs where it would be cooler. So Scott disassembled a crib and set it up in the formal living room, Joseph slept in a pack n play near the bathroom, and we drug our mattress down and slept on it in the family room. It was incredible how, even at 10 pm, you could feel the heat hit your face as got about half way up the stairs.

Ian's crib actually looked kinda nice in the living room. That room is off-limits to the kids, so Ian woke up the next morning saying "Why am I in the grown-up room?"

Joseph didn't seem to mind that he was placed in the tightest quarters. He was actually very happy to be surrounded by doorknobs on three sides. Those favorite items were even within reach for once!

My favorite part of this whole event was this: We actually moved Joseph's crib down into the living room instead of Ian's. And though the cribs are identical, Ian refused to sleep in Joseph's. Until we convinced him that it actually was his. But then the next night when he was back in his own crib again, he refused to accept that it was really his. What a tangled web we'd weaved.

So the first morning after Ian had slept in his actual crib again, the first thing he said to me when I got him up was "Joseph slept in my bed. And I slept in Joseph's bed. That's so crap."

I tried not to laugh hysterically in front of him, but called Scott right away to tell him the story.