National Lampoon's Powerless Christmas Vacation

We awoke to a lovely Christmas morning. Kids all in their matching Christmas jammies, presents galore, Butterbraids baking in the oven. We then sat down to watch The Grinch and open stockings. All was well until the final scene of the movie when the power went out. We waited a few minutes, figuring it would flicker back on momentarily. But it soon became apparent that the power was out for the long haul. At first, all was well. We watched home movies on the computer, and three of the kids had their iPads to entertain them, a lavish gift bestowed upon them by their father. We all had our phones, some of them with internet connection so we could update our Facebook statuses appropriately with laments about the lack of power. Amid choruses of "what are we gonna DO?" and "I'm hungry" the parental units escaped for a quick slumber, always the most appropriate choice when one is without power. However, all naps must come to an end, and so we were once again faced with problems of boredom and hunger, with no way to cook Christmas dinner. Here is how we coped.

Husband: a true man of the earth, Jeff was enamored with the opportunity for all of us to unplug and live life as pioneers. He proclaimed that he could, indeed, cook our roast over the barbeque. He busied himself in the fading light of the afternoon prepping for a fishing trip and doing all manner of "man things" in the garage while envisioning the womenfolk churning butter and stitching samplers in the kitchen. He also snuck upstairs to read a book on my Kindle.

Me: I was fine until my phone battery started dying and then I started to panic. My connection to the outside world was becoming threatened! Plus, I was bored. Bored and racking my brain for a fun family activity we all could do. A walk around the neighborhood? SIGH. Everyone was still in their pajamas. Go somewhere? No one was ready, and besides, at this point the power had been out for hours and what if the hot water ran out for six showers? Board game? Only if it was LIFE. And I HATE LIFE.

Hayley: Since connectivity was still going strong in the early hours, she made the best of her laptop, iPad and smart phone, texting the contents of her Christmas morning loot to her boyfriend who is on vacation in Canada. As each gadget ran out of power, she became more and more bored. When hunger overcame her, she grabbed her purse, still in her pajamas and said "Screw it. I have money. I'll pay for dinner. Let's go find something open." When her phone died, she went to bed. When the power came on a couple of hours later, she emerged from her den, freshly renewed with the promise of wattage.

Hannah: The iPad was her best friend. Plus, her phone never ran out of battery. And she was smart enough to get a shower before heading downstairs to see what Santa brought, so she was the cleanest among us today. She was just drifting off to sleep when the power returned and she ran downstairs with her sister cheering.

Arlie: The least affected of us all, because she owns neither an iPad nor a smart phone, Arlie busied herself with actually taking her gifts up to her room. Hannah let her play on the iPad for a while, and she managed to entertain herself by constantly texting her friends. However, once the power was restored, she flew downstairs cheering "power!" "lights!"

Harrison: Possibly the most affected of us all, Harrison was fairly smothering from boredom, despite having his iPad to entertain him. He had failed to upload several hundred apps when he received it yesterday, and with no WiFi to access the internet, he was forced to play Stupid Zombies for hours on end. His phone buzzed with texts and he eyed my Kindle Fire enviously. He was mostly on the floor in front of the fireplace all day and mentioned "starving" and "dying" several times. He also didn't want to go anywhere in the house once it was completely dark.

Despite the apocalyptic air in the house, we survived. Our stomachs were growling and after dialing a pizza joint and finding it closed, we decided to go out exploring to see what might be open. Earlier in the week we had noticed a sign saying Jack in the Box was open. So, we headed there. Myself and four kids, in matching pajamas. Jeff stayed behind to man the several candles that were burning. He asked as I was leaving, "Is there anything I can do for you while you're gone? Vacuum or something?" Such a joker. I replied "Make more light!"

We waited in line 45 minutes at Jack in the Box. In the drive-thru. So much for fast food. When we got our food we were missing fries and a drink. (Note: if you have a big family, NEVER leave the drive thru window without checking your order). We finally got everything squared away and by the time I drove out of the drive-thru line, most of the kids had eaten half their food. After all, they were ravenous. And who knew where or when we'd get our next meal?

When we got home, we were greeted with an assault to the nostrils. Something along the lines of the scent gasoline or wax filled the air. I, being gracious and all, said "what the HELL is that horrible smell?" to which Jeff replied, "I made more light!" He had filled a very old kerosene lamp with lamp oil and lit it up. This lamp had been in his grandpa's farm in Kansas. Like, over fifty years ago. And besides it's quaint "Little House on the Prairie" charm, the smell was horrid. However, after our lovely dinner of fast food on this most special of days, I moved the antique lamp to the kitchen and lovingly prepared peanut butter balls for the kids' dessert, a no-bake treat. We sat around the table and did something odd. We talked. With our mouths. Facing each other. It was novel.

But, still. It was dark. Very, very dark. We were bored. Very, very bored. And finally, Harrison, not being able to stand another minute not fully connected to the social network world, called his dad and asked for an escape. You see, although his father lives just a mile down the road from us, he is on a different power grid and had power all day. Finally we settled down, me with my Kindle and a bit of battery life left, Jeff with an actual book and a headlamp with which to read it by, the girls upstairs, all snuggled in bed, while visions of sugarplums.....oh, never mind. Hayley was already sleeping. There was a knock at the door and the father arrived to whisk his son away to the world of lights and cable. He gathered his things and they drove off........just as the lights came on!

I'm not gonna lie. We couldn't plug stuff in fast enough. Recharge! Recharge! Connect! Update status! Watch TV! Whew. It's a good thing we got things back on the grid. For tomorrow we may have had to churn butter....

Nothing went "right" this Christmas, but nothing went wrong either. We spent it together, and despite our original plans to have a movie marathon and a delicious, home-cooked dinner, we had a lot of laughs and it's a Christmas we'll never forget. But would rather not repeat. Merry Christmas!

The Night the Lights Went out in Bothell

So, yesterday started out pretty normal. I had to work, and the school's variety show, which I'm in charge of, was rescheduled for last night (after being canceled for snow in March!). As I'm checking my email in the morning, I receive an email from the PE teacher at school saying that the 400 chairs I've had delivered from the district are sitting out in the rain and I "might want to organize towel duty". Knowing there's no way I can get 400 chairs set up and dried off in 45 minutes, I call the school and beg for someone to put them under cover for the rest of the day. I go to work, then off to Target to return something. Doug calls me and says "Can you believe this? Here we go again!" I have no idea what he's talking about, so he says "It's snowing like a son of a bitch outside again" and I'm sitting in my car, it's 47 degrees and sunny (this is less than three miles from where he is). I look outside and see a humongous mass of roiling black clouds moving toward me. It almost looked fake, like in a movie! After I run my errands, icy pellets start coming down and as I drive closer to my house, it's apparent it has snowed enough to cover the ground. I think to myself "HAH! This is nothing! The show must go on". I get home, grab some things for Hayley, pick her and two friends up at school and drop them off for cheerleading tryouts at the high school. It's snowing. I head to the elementary school, pick up the younger kids, and head home for an hour so we can change for the show, eat and I can burn a disc of the "curtain call" song. After struggling with iTunes for a while trying to learn how to burn a disc, I am finally successful. I throw chicken nuggets in the oven, make some mac 'n' cheese, cut up some apples and call it dinner. We make a mad dash and arrive at the school at 5:15. It's snowing. We set up chairs, sound equipment, video, and people start to arrive. I hear a lot of "Have you seen how much snow is out there?" and "This is worse than the first time we canceled." But the show must go on! I don't look outside (denial). Finally, just before the show, I peek outside to a wonderland of white, covering everything. But the show must go on! We begin. Everything is going great! The kids are wonderful, the crowd is entertained, and we finish the first half of the show. Everyone mills around eating cookies and chatting for ten minutes of intermission and then we set up for act two. The act is announced, the lights go dim, and then they go out! They flicker briefly and go out entirely. There is a short pause while this sinks in, then terrified screams, chaos and confusion as 400 people realize we are now in the dark. (That second act was a real show-stopper!). We regain some control, with the use of emergency lighting and a megaphone, and announce that we now have to cancel the second half of the show! It takes about 10 minutes to reunite parents with kids and get everyone out of the gym, then the rest of us (clean up crew) have to put everything away, racing against the clock as our 20 minute emergency lighting (think of lighting a few candles, that's how bright it was) quickly runs out. We exit the gym to a thick blanket of wet snow and head home. On the way we see tree branches down (that might explain the power outage!) but we are lucky to have power at home. After shaking wet snow off our playground trees and the magnolia in the front yard, we settle in for the night. Several adult beverages later, Jeff and I are laughing about the jinxed show. There were lots of dissapointed kids tonight (Harrison being one of them!) who did not get to perform, but we plan to reschedule another show for the second half. What a nightmare. We are SO ready for spring to begin. Our baseball/softball season has consisted mostly of canceled games (like today!), and the "spring flowers" we planted "after the last frost" are wilting and dying. Phoenix anyone?