High Risk: Tornadic Wednesday Ahead

First of all, that's not what you want to see when you log into The Weather Channel's page with your zip code.

Second of all, how cool is the word "tornadic?"

I think that might be my new favorite word, right up there with "grommet" and "bokeh." I might have to try working that into everyday conversation regularly. "Boy, I was busy at work today. I had so many people in and out of my office it was positively tornadic in there."

Unfortunately, the prediction of tornadic activity forced the administrators of Zozer's preschool to cancel the family picnic tonight. I'm disappointed for Zoe, and myself, really. She's been looking so forward to today. She chose her special polkadot shorts to wear last week (and refused to wear them for a week, "saving" them for the "party day" despite my assurances that I do indeed, do laundry regularly and that they would be clean in time), and of course selected special Party Underwear last night at bathtime.

I'm disappointed for her, and for me because this is her last preschool picnic. I've become acutely aware in the last few days that she will soon be a kindergartner. Which is highly distressing as it signals yet another milestone and proof that she is actually growing up. I'm so proud of her, and at the same time, I mourn the loss of her babyness. I feel like I just enrolled her in preschool, just went through that traumatic first day, just watched her transition from the Elephant Room, and then the Bunny Room.

Now she's a "big kid" at her school, one of those gangly children completely at ease running through the hallways while the parents of the new children try to keep their little ones from being bowled over. Just like I did three years ago. Now she's the seasoned preschool veteran who welcomes shy, new friends and shows them the ropes. When did that happen? Did I blink and forget to open my eyes for three years?

Plan B for her picnic is to have it tomorrow during school hours. Parents have been invited to come to the school to eat lunch with their children, which I of course will do. It'll be fun, but it's not the same as her picnic in the park with the playground and everyone running around like little banshees.

Eh, well, either way it's a safe prediction that consumption of preschool hot dogs will inevitably result in tornadic activity in my abdominal region.