Quite the fun week

It's an odd thing when nearly everyone you know has lost power, and you feel guilty because you haven't. And you don't have to exist on takeout and charging your phone at warming stations and standing in the cold for hours to get gas for your generator. And you drive home from work in the dark and it's extra darkness all around you because all the homes and businesses have no lights.

Not to mention the trees down everywhere and the power lines hanging down to the ground. Kiddo and I have already had the discussion about how he should never ever touch power lines.

We did wait on a gas line last weekend, because I had a quarter-tank left and it was an even day and I couldn't put it off any longer. (Seriously, I have no idea why the governor was so confident in our math skills with this even-odd rationing thing. Question I saw on Twitter: "Is zero even or odd?") I told kiddo to bring some books and a toy, and I took some snacks along just in case. We ended up only waiting a half-hour or so, which these days, isn't bad.

About the books: I've known for a while that kiddo basically could read. He's been trying to sound out whatever words he sees, and when his teacher sent home sheets of words to make into flash cards, he already knew every one. The only thing stopping him was that he hadn't realized it yet. So he was contentedly sounding out words in the car seat, and I was checking things on my phone, and suddenly he announced: "I can read!" I agreed that yes, he could, and that moment made the whole gas line worth it.

 The rescheduled Halloween went off as planned. At least in our neighborhood it did, because we had power, along with the quiet streets and sidewalks that usually attract kids from outside the development to begin with. Our neighborhood was probably one of the few in the area where kids could go trick or treating safely. So everyone came here. We didn't run out of candy, but if the doorbell-ringing had gone on too much past 8 we would've. DH took our kids around. I was working from home, so I sat on the floor near the front door with my laptop, ready to jump up and grab the candy bowl when necessary. Wonderful for my back, I'm sure. But still easier than getting up from the dining room, sitting back down, getting up, sitting down, etc.

I'm pretty sure some kids were repeat customers. I pretended not to notice.

Some of the neighbors were complaining afterward about all the non-residents showing up for candy, and how they like it better when they know all the kids they see. I wasn't really bothered. Mainly I feel bad for the kids. Two Halloweens in a row have been utter weather disasters, and instead of celebrating, the kids have been stuck in the dark and cold, watching their parents freak out about the spoiled food and the lack of child care. Or they've lost their roof or their whole house. Not fair, not right. They deserve to have the happy Halloweens I did when I was growing up. If that means their parents drive them to my street for candy, that's fine by me.

Anyway, if it's in the house I'll eat it. I've already been pilfering the kids' stash.

I think at this point everyone we know has power back, and the kids' schools are finally open again, so no more days of pounding away at our laptops while the kids watch way too much TV. I'm hoping they didn't lose too many brain cells. Monday should be back to normal. Ish.

I know we're profoundly lucky to have our house and our health, since a lot of other people can't say the same.

My Shore of ruins

With apologies to Springsteen. Who, for the record, I think should have played "Wrecking Ball" during the Sandy benefit concert, instead of "Land of Hope and Dreams," which after all lost a little resonance when it became the MLB postseason theme. Just saying.

We're OK. We shockingly didn't lose power. There were a few moments Monday night, very early Tuesday morning, when it went out and we thought, OK, that's it then, but then it came back on. DH and I sat in front of the TV, tuned to News 12, and listening to the wind whipping around the house and the creaking all around us, and waited for things to get worse but they never really did. Eventually we quit dozing on the couch and went to bed.

The kids slept through it. I have no idea how.

In the morning we still had power and school was closed. (We didn't know, of course, that school would be closed all week. It may or may not be open tomorrow. There is some cabin fever going on.) The house seemed OK. Here is how much we lucked out: Wednesday or Thursday, when we finally ventured outside, we discovered the two huge evergreens on either side of the house had both been uprooted. Completely out of the ground. Both of them fell away from the house. In opposite directions. They're like dead tree bookends.

We kept watching News 12. And hit up Twitter and Facebook. And then we started to see the images from the Shore.

Look, I'm from South Jersey. I grew up on boardwalks. I've been on the rides at Seaside Heights and I've played the cranes in Point Pleasant. I love that little aquarium there. I've admired the pretty beachside houses and hung out at Jenkinson's and eaten my share of funnel cake and boardwalk fries fresh out of the fryer, which are the best fries in the world.

When I was even younger, and we lived in Monmouth County, we used to go to Keansburg. There was a giant undulating slide that you went down sitting on a burlap sack, and there was a rotating helicopter ride where you could make the copters go up and down as they went around. There was a duck game, where you just picked up little plastic ducks as they floated past you and whatever was written on the bottom determined the prize you got.

All of that is wrecked now.

The images of devastation keep horrifying me over and over. I feel terrible for all the people who lost their homes. But the shot that really went right to my heart was seeing the roller coaster at Seaside Heights sitting in the ocean.

We didn't make it down to the beach this summer. It's a long drive now, and I hate sitting in Shore traffic -- like I'm somehow above it because I used to live 20 minutes away. Plus we have a pool nearby. But I wish we'd tried. Because I really liked bringing my kids to the places I used to love. I liked watching them on the beach and trying to win them stuffed animals in the arcades, the way my father did for me. I liked watching them shriek with pleasure on the kiddie rides. And I don't think we'll be able to do that again. Not for a long time, if ever.

Things might get better. But they won't be the same.

Storm storm stormy storm storm!

... sitting and waiting. We have bottled water and non-perishable food. The sparkly Halloween cat and the scarecrow have been uprooted and moved inside, the lawn furniture is in the shed. I'm doing as much laundry as possible. And I'm using the heat pack on my back as much as possible because if the microwave goes out, it'll be useless.

Oh right, did I mention I have arthritis in my back? That's right, I said ARTHRITIS. I'm not even old enough to get a mammogram yet and I have arthritis. I found that out a little over a week ago, after the back pain got so bad I went to the doctor and they had X-rays done.

"Am I even old enough to have that?" I asked the nurse on the phone.

"Everybody's body develops differently, dear," she said.

Hey, thanks.

Possible factors: the scoliosis I've had more or less since puberty -- I was seeing a specialist about it for a while, but the curve was so mild they opted not to do anything -- and the genetic predisposition toward arthritis I apparently had but didn't know about. Until Dad said, "Oh yeah, I have it in my knees. And my mother had it in her shoulders."

Because that's what happens every single time something medically weird comes up. My parents say "Oh yeah, every third cousin for five generations had that, didn't we tell you?" I could find out next week I have the gene for spontaneous combustion and they'll say "Oh yeah, your Great-Aunt So-and-so spontaneously combusted in 1976, didn't we tell you?"

Yes, I know you're reading this. Take a joke. Nyah.

Anyway, I've been seeing a chiropractor and doing stretching exercises, plus the heat pack and meds if necessary, and it's been OK aside from the occasional twinge. It's as though periodically my back likes to nudge me and say, "Hey man, guess what! You've still got arthritis!"

I'll be joining AARP next, I guess. And eating more early-bird dinners. And changing my blog's name to "Angry Old Mom."

Anyway. My bum back and I are awaiting the storm. Just windy now. It would be really really nice if no one got hurt, and the power stayed on, and the trees stayed up, and Halloween wasn't postponed for the second year in a row. And if we could actually stay in the house this time instead of fleeing. But it's early yet.