Worrying about Irene

AccuWeather map showing the projected path of Hurricane Irene.

If people were to fully comprehend the level of anxiety involved in parenting, they might think twice.

Having children involves near-constant worrying that having older kids doesn't diminish. In some respects, it gets worse because the stakes get higher. Touching hot stoves and riding bikes into the street pale in comparison to teenagers driving, the temptation of drugs and alcohol, and all-round risky behavior. It's crazy-making.

Let's not forget natural disasters.

My younger daughter, Allison, just rode out Hurricane Irene in Long Island last night. She's okay, just a brief power outage, some scary wind, and downed trees and branches, but yesterday, I was a wreck.

Part of the anxiety is the lack of control. If I were where this was happening, I would take every precaution, because I'm just wired that way. But my kid? I don't know. We talked on the phone, in-between her trips (some unsuccessful) to find flashlights, batteries, canned food and water.

Okay, so my kid was right, and the storm
damage in her neck of Long Island wasn't so bad. This time!!

All the while, she kept saying, "I really don't think it's going to be that bad."

Allison got a taste of the ugly side of panic when she waited on the wrong side to get gas, then realized the hose wasn't long enough and had to cut into the other line at the gas station. The whole station erupted in fury, and one charming New York man yelled at her the entire time she pumped.

"You'd think that people would pull together and be understanding in an emergency," she said. Ah, my pet, that's Left Coast thinking. You're dealing with New Yorkers now, who routinely scream at one another for breathing.

A block from the station, she burst into tears. One day, she'll assimilate, turn to the screaming man and tell him to shut the eff up, maybe do a little yelling herself. Then I'll know I've lost her to the East coast Dark Side.

Since I wasn't there to protect her, my advice was to get out of Dodge. Her in-laws live in Rhode Island, so why not weather the storm in safety there? But her winemaker husband had to batten down the hatches at the winery on Saturday, so that meant fleeing was impossible.

Flashlights were sold out, so she bought candles. But then I read online that you shouldn't have any open flames, so that was out. She couldn't get bottled water, so she was going to filter what she could and fill containers. I advised her to fill her bathtub to use for flushing toilets.

Some storm damage in Allison's complex.
They got lucky, minor damage and no flooding.

It's a whole different thing from earthquakes, preparing for hurricanes. I have prepared innumerable earthquake kits only to raid them when I ran out of toilet paper, tuna fish or petty cash. It's like preparing to get old: you know it's going to happen eventually, but it seems so far off.

Then, even when an earthquake does come, it destroys rather selectively. But hurricanes are different. You know when it's coming, you have time to prepare, including getting the hell out of there.

Obviously, not all places get the same amount of damage, but everyone gets wet. Just because your roof didn't fly off doesn't mean your basement won't flood.

On the other hand, this photo from the Los Angeles Times
 shows what happens when a real tree comes down.
This is Brooklyn Heights in NYC.

Once the storm preparations are done, you wait. And watch the destruction the storm wreaks elsewhere before it gets to you, making you ever more fearful.

But with earthquakes, you walk around feeling like it won't be you, until one day it is. Which is what I feared with this storm, that my daughter would think about all the times we prepared for emergencies that never happened, like the family fire drills where the kids popped out their screen and climbed out of the bedroom windows.

But when you see the mayor of New York City evacuating huge chunks of the city and shutting down the public transit system, you get a little freaked out. As Mayor Bloomberg said: if he prepares too much, they'll accuse him of of overreacting; if he doesn't do enough, it will be his fault that things are so screwed up. It's a no-win situation.

So now that I know that my daughter is okay, I have a new worry: that next time she won't take the severe storm warnings seriously enough, because she escaped Irene relatively unscathed.

What can I say? I'm a mom.

Sunday night update: We spoke too soon about the power. The complex's generator gave out and they are cooking by candlelight and hoping the electricity comes on soon.