SURVIVING THE TORNADO.. PART 2.

When we left off, I was spiraling in the kitchen, gripping a string cheese and a cracked emergency plan, wondering how I became the designated natural disaster coordinator for our household. Spoiler alert: it got worse before it got better.

The moment the "take cover NOW" alert hit, we ditched our not-so-safe “panic bed” plan and headed to my mom’s work because she works in a building with BRICK WALLS and A BASEMENT—two things my house apparently skipped out on in the design phase. Felt like a smart move… until we arrived.

Enter: the children.

Immediately upon walking in, both of my kids decided to launch into what I can only describe as a full-scale chaos simulation. My baby? Chose this moment—this potentially life-threatening, shelter-in-place moment—to kick off what I'm sure will be a long and dramatic screaming career. He was committed. Gave it everything he had. 10/10 lung power.

Meanwhile, my oldest was trying to figure out how to stream YouTube, TikTok, Roblox, and a live weather app—at the same time—on already barely charged devices. Did my oldest leave his phone on the charger before we left like I asked? Of course not. We had about 9% left and the emotional countdown had begun. He looked me in the eye and said, “What if it dies?” and I knew, in that moment, that he would too. Right there. On the spot.

And just when I thought it couldn’t get more chaotic, my parents' dogs entered the chat. They’re adorable. They're also known for their weapons-grade dog breath. One let out a yawn and I almost relocated myself back outside into the storm.

Speaking of outside—the only sane adult among us, my dad, was so overwhelmed by the sheer energy radiating from my children that he parked himself on the porch. During the storm. Yes, he opted to face a literal tornado over coming back inside with his grandkids. I don’t even blame him. I tried to stay out there with him but my phone blew up with "where are you?", "get back in here", "someone's bleeding", and "heellllooooo??" texts from my sister, husband, and two brothers.

Back in the basement, each adult had decided on a different live stream for weather updates. One had the local news on Facebook Live. One had a random YouTube meteorologist from four states away. Another had the Weather Channel app open and zoomed all the way into Arkansas for reasons unknown. Zero of the information matched. Every few minutes someone would yell “IT’S HEADING RIGHT FOR US” and then another would go, “Wait, no, it’s not even near us.” I’ve never longed for a united front more in my life. Just one clear answer, please. I am not a storm chaser—I’m just tired.

The good news? We survived. The bad news? My nerves may never recover.

We eventually made it home, phones miraculously still charged, and internet intact (bless it). The storm didn’t hit us directly, but I’m confident we were in the eye of a very different kind of storm—one fueled by anxiety, electronics, and dog breath.

Would I do it all again to keep my kids safe? Yes.Would I maybe bring duct tape and backup headphones next time? Also yes. (Figureatively, not literally. Please don't make "a call" because I promise I'm not abusing my family.

Stay safe out there, friends. Hug your weather apps. We are in for four more days of thunderstorms and flooding. And if you ever find yourself hunkering down in a basement with toddlers and dogs during a tornado warning—may the Wi-Fi be strong and the juice boxes/sprite/sweet tea plentiful.