Hot Potato and Tornado

Mommy Fail. Preston was SO hungry last night, just a little eating machine. I had given him an entire container of carrots mixed with some cereal, and he absolutely loved it. But he downed it in like 5 minutes. So, I took a potato and cooked it in the microwave and mashed it up. I swear to God I tested the temperature of it before I gave it to him, since it really was hot when I first took it out of the microwave. Well, apparently I didn't test it well enough, because I gave Preston a bite, and he made the most God-awful face I've ever seen. It was like I had put a straight-up hot coal in his mouth or something. He was trying so hard to spit it out, but couldn't. I scooped it out of his mouth as fast as I could... and then, he screamed. But it took him a few seconds to get that scream out-- it was one of THOSE cries. I picked him up from his high chair and just snuggled him so tight, as he wailed for about 5 minutes straight. Oh I felt so bad. Horrible! He's fine now, but I feel so bad. His little tongue has got to be so uncomfortable today!!

After the potato incident, Skip and I finished our dinner (smoked Spam and smelt... I swear. Yes. It was interesting...), and went for 49 cent cones at McDonalds. As we were getting home, the storm that had been brewing out west was really hitting us. I dropped off the boys (since we can't park in our driveway while the city works on our sidewalks), and parked a couple houses down. We sat on the front porch watching the storm for a few minutes, and then the sirens went off. If anyone knows me, that's equal to the WORLD ENDING for Ellen. I have a serious fear bordering on phobia of tornadoes (I frequently have tornado-themed nightmares), so it freaked the HELL out of me. Skip had the nerve to try and stop me from going into the basement with Preston, saying everything was fine. Um, Skip, are you shitting me?! I scooped up the boy and some blankets, and made a little makeshift bed downstairs. Skip stayed upstairs and actually watched the storm from the front porch-- suit yourself, crazy man!

We only stayed downstairs for 1/2 hour or so, until the worst passed, which it did. Preston was rolling around like crazy thinking it was the coolest thing to be down in the basement with Mommy-- so sleeping was not happening. I came back upstairs so I could put him in his crib when the scariness was over. He fell right asleep, and I crawled into bed and did the same. It was a pretty scary hour, though! Thank god I didn't have any dreams last night, they potentially could've been some doozies!