Oh we had a thunderstorm Thursday night.  All hail (hale, get it…hail/hail?) Hoosiers, spring and it’s tornado-ey weather has arrived.  Lightening struck our neighbor’s house and jarred our house so violently that our fire alarms went off.  Which is not nearly as dramatic as the fire that shot out of their electrical outlets.  For those of you whom have heard Sara scream during her classic night terrors, you ain’t heard nothin’ until you’ve heard Sara being awakened by our fire alarm.  Kelly?  We found her in her crib yelling, “WHOAH!!!  WHUUU-OOOAHH.”

And then the FIRE TRUCKS arrived on the court.  Three full size engines and ladder trucks, along with a heavy rescue vehicle.  And an ambulance.  And a fire officer.  The girls sat ring-side at our dining room window, watching the lights in the pouring down rain, too shocked at the spectacle to move a muscle.  There was DRAMA on the court.  Cul-de-sac living provides a lot of bonuses, but privacy isn’t one of them.  Sara told Kelly, “It looks like Christmas with all the lights!”, to which Kelly surmised it WAS Christmas and those firemen must be SANTA.  She pounded against the window, calling for “TANTA!” for 20 good minutes before Sara and I finally waved goodbye to the final truck and headed back up to bed.

Bed.  Ha.  That’s a funny joke.  For those of you whom have watched Sara attempt to fall asleep on a boring, nothing-happening night, you should try to get her to sleep after this level of chaos.  There was no sleeping.  A  lot of crying, waking up in cold sweats screaming, a lot of being held by Mommy all night…but no sleeping.  By 6am, fire shooting out of outlets sounded like a fair trade to me.  Good news: everyone is fine.  Everyone on the court lost a fuse of some kind, our neighbors have MAJOR electrical repairs to be finished, and we all got a little wet running out into the night doing headcounts…but that’s life on the Court.  That lack of privacy is replaced by lots of helping hands when lightening strikes.  Literally.