On lying and close calls

Ben was a bit squirrely tonight. He's sort of like an animal before a big storm - I think he feels it in his bones. Or the hair on his neck. Something.
Anyhoo - I was prepared for a bedtime power struggle. It wasn't too bad. He did ask to sleep in the crib tonight, which wasn't too weird considering the fact that he fell out of his "big" bed twice the night before.
He had been quiet for about ten minutes before I started to hear the rumbling of thunder. I sat there praying it would stay far away and quiet enough to not startle him.
It didn't.
The wind kicked up to about 60mph almost instantaneously and the storm rolled in quickly.
Ben got out of bed and cried "Mommy! Fundur! Scawy!"
I scooped him up and assured him, "No, honey. It's just thunder. It's not scary - we're safe!"
He asked to sleep in Mommy's bed and I obliged.
We lay together in the dark talking about the rain and the thunder and how safe we were when I watched a bolt of lightning seemingly hit across the street. Sure, the blinds were closed and isn't lightning always seeming to hit close by?
Strangely enough, the sirens began very soon after. We live less than a mile from the fire station - and about 99% of the time it storms, the sirens start soon after the first big boomer.
This time, the lights turned down our street.
Our street.
And then they stopped on our block.
Our block.
Our block?!

Keith Super Daddy Hogan ran out of the house to see if the trouble was tree related.
Ben and I paced the main floor of the house not knowing what to do.
"What happened? Mommy, what happened?"
"I don't know, Ben - but we're safe, right?"
Right?
I stepped outside.
The air reaked of hot electricity.
Across the street and four doors down, there was a parade of people exiting a dark house with flashlights.
Many of them were kids.
"Mommy, what happened? Fire trucks. Hot!"
Just as I saw the last (I hoped) person leave the house, I saw what looked like 100 ground firecrackers behind the house. There was a huge plume of smoke, electrical noise and more stench.
People started running from the direction of the house, Keith included.
He found me standing in front of our house, dumbfounded. He said that lightning struck a tree which fell on a power line and took out the supply to the house. The power was still "alive" and was "arcing like crazy."
I asked him, "Are we safe?"
"I don't know. Let's turn off the lights."
I called 911.
"Are we safe?"
I was told yes. That the power lines affected by the surge were already turned off and that if we still had power, our electricity was in control.
Yeah.... but are we safe?
What do you do? Get in the car and drive? Where? Sit and wait? That's the thing about lightning - no control. Doesn't matter where you are, really - kinda seems like your odds are the same.
Ben and I ventured back outside to let Keith know what I learned from 911.
Ben saw our neighbor and immediately began telling her that "Fire truck hot. Fireman fix it."
At that point, he started shaking.
Pure adrenaline.
I wasn't sure if he was scared or excited, but I knew he wasn't cold.
I started to regret letting him see all that he had. So we stood there a few minutes more and talked about the big awesome fire truck and how the fire men were all there to fix the electricity (I never said fire - although the rumor is there was a small fire in the back corner of the house.) and that it was all better now because the fire men were all here to fix it all better... etc.

I think he believed me.
At least he stopped shaking.

We went back inside and he immediately asked to go in Mommy's bed. He fell asleep quickly. Keith and I wonder if he'll have bad dreams and are trying to figure out if it's best to keep him in our bed tonight or forge ahead as if everything's all better.

I wonder where that family went. They left the house and just disappeared. The police must have helped them. Or something.
I keep thinking of our "luck" and their misfortune.
I keep thinking I'll never be able to convince Ben that thunder isn't scary again. I lied.
I keep thinking about all the what-ifs.
I keep thanking God.

I am so impressed by the emergency response professionals. HOLY. COW.
They were here so fast. They moved so efficiently. And they just. kept. coming.
I'm okay with Ben being so enamored with these folks.



And P.S. to the cop who lied to my face: i'm on to you. Yeah you. The one I called to from my stoop: "Sir? Are we safe?" and you replied, "Yep! Just a stove fire." Right. 'Cause my stove does pyrotechnics. Actually, as I was watching the halo over the house from all the arcing, I actually feared that there was a meth lab about to explode. And I don't even watch the news.