One of the main reasons I have not moved to California, beisdes it's supposed fall into the Pacific Ocean, is the Earthquakes. Today on the East Coast we got a little taste of what Californians no doubt would think was a pretty mild event.
It is about 1:30, Teddy is with my mom and sister going to BJ's and I am on the phone with my Dad. I stayed home and gave him up for the day because I had to do some computer work/writing/playing on Facebook--we all need a little me time no?--anyway, I was on the phone with my Dad and all of a sudden I felt like I was moving. "Dad, did you feel that?" "What?" "Oh my God there it is again, I'm moving." He laughs and thinks I've gone crazy. I look at the bag on the floor next to me and it is vibrating. The shades which are drawn so as to block out any and all temptations I might have to go outside and not actually do any work are also moving. The door starts to move back and forth. "DAD! We are having an Earthquake!!!" "Run outside, call me back!" I run outside and all of my neighbors are outside. "Did you feel that?" "What was that" "Was that an EARTHQUAKE!" Everyone seems to be a little more than a little freaked out. And All I could think of besides "Where is Teddy and is he ok", was I am really not wearing the appropriate clothes for this. I had on stretch yoga pants, flip flops and two layered tank tops. Fine to sit and write in front of the computer, sure, but not what you would call great attire for fleeing a disaster scene.
After I calmed down about the clothes I was wearing--I truly am not that vain, really--I had a moment to think about the fact that I wasn't with Teddy. This was not an apocalyptic event such as 9/11 was. When that happened ten years ago, I was in the second day of my new life as a preschool teacher. I was in Greenwich Village on Sullivan Street, a block that at the north you could clearly see the Empire State Building and at the its south you can clearly see what would be left of the Twin Towers.
As the planes flew over us that morning when we were setting up our new classroom and laughing about the fact that "They were coming for us." (As the planes went overhead, they sounded like they did in the 1940's and 50's movies.) We heard a scream from next door. A fellow teacher saw them hit the first tower. She screamed and ran downstairs. Kids starting flooding in at this time, parents looking really freaked out and not knowing what to do, run or stay. We didn't know what to tell them.
As the days progressed and we all started making sense of this disaster, parents called to tell me that they were taking their kids to the country, out of the city. Friends were emailing me to tell me what downtown looked like in flames, and I tried to comprehend the madness of what happened.
Today when our minor quake happened, I was at a loss to know what I would have done had it been bad. And had Teddy not been with me. I'm still rather freaked out by it. I responded with humor and bag packing. But he wasn't with me and that I was not okay with. I will not always be able to be with him, especially as he gets older and that loss of control has me reeling.
Ahhhhh, the life of a parent. When done correctly it messes you up big time!
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