Quiet Moments Before a Storm

    Today was one of those uniquely New Orleans days where much of the city was glued to television sets and radios while the rest planned parties and binges. With the approach of Tropical Storm (and soon to be Hurricane) Isaac, everyone had some choices to make. As of now, most residents seem to be planning to stay, which is not unusual for a category one or two hurricane. Unless the city issues an evacuation order, many people will probably remain and ride out the storm with cases of booze and bottles of water.

    I will most likely leave. The prospect of being without power for any extended period of time with a 20 month old is not one I relish. Assuming old Ike reaches hurricane strength and continues on his path towards the Big Easy, I will flee to the safety of my in laws' house on the North Shore tomorrow morning. Tony will not be coming with Charlie and me, at least not at first, which is a stressful concept.

     This storm is relatively weak at the moment and probably poses little threat beyond some wind damage and potential power outages. Still, splitting up my family during the approach of a hurricane, particularly on the anniversary of Katrina and with certain Katrina parallels being batted around, is not my favorite thing. All in all, it has been a less than comforting day.

    All of this made the cuddly, serene moments before Charlie's bed time tonight all the more precious. Every night when I put him to bed, we sing perhaps a dozen rounds of Old McDonald before really snuggling in deep and singing our nightly lullabye, "Hush, Little Baby." It is an extremely outdated and quite bizarre-to-begin-with little song, but my mother sang it to me, and I sing it to my baby.

    While I sing, Charlie wraps his arms around my neck and nuzzles my cheek. Sometimes he lifts his head to kiss me on the mouth right in the middle of lyrics. He is extraordinarily affectionate when he is tired. Normally, when the song is over, I cradle him in my arms and walk to his crib, where I lay him down and tuck him in. Tonight, as the song approached the end, he began to pout and whimper. When I stopped singing, he pleaded, "Again, again."And so we sang "Hush, Little Baby," again, and again, and again, four times, until finally he would relent and allow me to say goodnight.

     When I carried him into his room to put him to bed, I had a million things on my mind. I needed to pack a bag for our potential evacuation, I needed to take the trash out, and I needed to check the weather just one... more... time! Our extra rounds of lullabyes gave me time to put all that aside. Sitting in a gliding chair with my child's arms around my neck and his breath on my cheek melted my stress away.

    I know these are the moments I am going to look back on with teary eyes when my baby is all grown up and off to college or another state or some lady's marriage bed. Even more than that, they are the moments that keep me sane now. Thank goodness for tiny people!

Be safe, y'all.