It's a Wascally Wainy Day.

Individual
Educational Plan Is
Not my girl, Defined

IEP, letters
Three. Words of Dread?  Yes Indeed.
Eff Bureaucracy. 

I. Am more than words.
Extraordinary Me! 
Paper pushers, y'all. 

I'm assuming y'all is one syllable? 

I do believe this is textbook avoidance behavior.  Obviously, the IEP was today.  More later - maybe.  No surprises, no drama, just ill defined, poorly understood feelings of blech. 

Blechity-blech-blech-Blah. 

In other news:
Matt took my camera to work to document tornado damage and failed to return it, so am waiting on the kindness of family for Easter photos.  Worst case scenario, I'll do some laundry and Recreate the Day, not that I would ever confess to stooping so low.  Surely there's a joke in there somewhere about Easter Outfits  rising anew?  I am surely going to hell. 

On a bright note, my car radio did rise again and is working just fine [I am SUCH a heathen], despite the bottle of water I dumped on it, so that's one less bit if broken electronics.  To compensate, my little jug of milk for coffee at work exploded in the car this morning so now my fellow commuters can also enjoy my functioning radio because I have the windows down so I don't gag on the lovely eau de rank cow.

Aren't I charming tonight?  Just so you know it's not all hell & brimstone over here, my son & I read Amelia Bedelia together tonight - When Amelia made lemon pie for the Rogers, he added that Gigi makes really good lemon pie too and he would like some more and when are we going to see her again?  Adorable.

Then he pointed at the fox stole on Mrs. Rogers and asked what it was.  Ummmm....  I really don't want to ruin the book for him because he associates it with lemon pies and Gigi, and he is doing a spectacular job reading it himself, so "That is a Dead Fox She is Wearing Around Her Neck"  didn't seem appropriate.  Telling him it was a Pet Fox seemed disingenuous (and he'd probably want to know why it didn't have a bigger role in the story).  I went with Pretend Fox.  Best I could do on the fly.

And last, in a sign I need more sleep - my boy periodically has to gather objects for "letter bags" at school.  For the A bag, you toss in an Apple, Alligator, Altoid tin - you get the idea.  He had fun doing this in preschool but he's reading Amelia Bedelia now, so I think the moment may have passed, but whatever, the school year is almost over.  This morning we did 'W'.  [Normally I wouldn't help him with this but it was one of Those Mornings and I forgot to have him do it last night].  So I'm pointing out the Watermelon (plastic picnic piece), Windmill (Geotrax), Whale, Wacecar....

Do Numerologists Celebrate Easter?

I updated my profile page not too long ago to explain how I edged into this whole bloggin' thing sideways.  I haven't been very stealthy about keeping the kids' names hidden in Christmas cards and kindergarten art, but I also don't use them in google-able text.  It was clear we lived in the mid-west but not till I mentioned Albert Pujols would anyone have been able to put us in a particular state.  (No, "Flyover Country" is not a legally recognized entity). 

It's also fairly clear that Matt works for an airline, since our recent travel travails were due, in part, to our status as "non-revenue generating passengers".

So although the evidence is there, it is still with some resignation I pull all the strings together...  And yet, I cannot not tell this story. 

Guess where Matt was Friday night?  Terminal 1, C concourse.... when the tornado struck.  He's fine.  Everyone at the airport was fine - sounds like there were some lacerations, maybe some stitches, but nothing life threatening.  City wide, there were swaths of homes wiped out but I haven't heard of any fatalities, nor even of any serious injuries.

Matt said it really did sound like a train.  The weather was nasty and the tornado sirens had been going on and off all day.  Not unusual but he was still keeping an eye on the window when he realized some of the lightening strikes were actually transformers blowing.  Then he heard the roar, and saw paper flying thru the air - clearly a building had been struck.  He and his people starting moving - and then it was all over in less than a minute.  Nature at its most fearsome, over in a flash.

Here's a video of the tornado hitting on youtube:

Here's another - it's longer, but catches some of the actual tornado, gets some immediate behind the scenes damage shots, AND is set to some rockin' music.  Matt knows a couple of the guys caught on camera. 

Also, some of the best still photos of the damage were, oddly, in the Kanas City paper. 

Anyone reading along may have also noted my fascination with random statistics and the whims of fate.  I like funny coincidences and to track improbabilities, but as our native son may or may not have said, there are "lies, damn lies, and statistics".  Despite scoring the long odds a few times, I haven't (yet) developed a full blown paranoid persecution complex - they are just numbers.  At best they add some color to my stories.  At worst I'm guilty of special snowflake syndrome.  We've been incredibly lucky in many ways too - heck, we're still married almost 12 years in, despite all The Drama.  Just like hitting the lottery, right?  (wait...  can I choose?  No, no... I jest).

But still...  A TORNADO?!?!?

I googled the odds of being struck by a tornado but could only find the odds of dying in one, which were, if you're curious, anywhere from 1 in 60,000 to 1 in 4.5 million, depending on which website you check.  See Mr. Twain's statement, above.  According to the National Weather Service, Friday's tornado was an EF4 immediately before it struck the airport.  According to Wiki, there are about 1,200 tornadoes a year in the US; less than 1% of them are an EF4.  Funny stuff. 

Side note:  I find it odd that the severity of the tornado is only ranked in terms of damage caused - sort of like being graded just for showing up.  If they hit an airport, and drive shrapnel thru multi-million dollar jets, they get a higher ranking than if they were twice as strong but only hit a meadow.  Hurricanes are rated by wind speeds - Probably not too many folks volunteering to measure a tornado's wind speed though.

I don't have a profound summation, and since we have to leave for Easter dinner, not even a closing haiku.  Just that my goodness, this is a magical marvelous life, this life of ours.  Happy Easter.