Candlelight

Exactly sixteen minutes after our power went out, my three-year old was rocking out to the “Star Wars” soundtrack on my husband’s iPod. Banjo music twanged at top volume from the baby’s new Learn and Groove music table.

My husband rummaged through the pile of batteries and emergency gear covering the dining room table. At that point, I should have realized that losing our electricity wouldn’t be all candles and snuggles in front of the fire.

Still, I couldn’t quite shake the idea that this power outage could be a mini vacation. After all, I couldn’t cook meals or do laundry. Instead, we could build cities made of blocks, and play cards, charades and read books by candlelight. If the storm eased up, maybe we could even do a little puddle stomping.

It didn’t work out that way. My husband spent most of his time hauling out buckets of water from under our house while I tried to keep the kids occupied. I think he enjoyed donning his headlamp and descending to the dank bowels of our house like a coal miner.

The baby was up many times each night, protesting his four layers of pajamas. And getting up at five a.m. with the kids was even more unappealing without lights, heat and coffee.

We ate crackers and peanut butter wearing our winter jackets. The baby cried over his cold dinner of pureed green beans and rice. I discovered that changing diapers by candlelight with a three-year-old “helper” was downright dangerous. After that, I embraced my husband’s assortment of flashlights, LED lights, and headlamps and put the candles away. I found myself looking forward to doing laundry when our power came back.

I thought three days without power would have stifled my love of candlelight forever. But, it didn’t. Now, I’m planning a mini vacation night, where we’ll do it my way. We’ll eat take-out on paper plates by candlelight. Then we’ll play charades, drink hot cocoa and read books in front of the fireplace. There won’t be any electronic gadgets. Best of all, we can turn the lights on if diapers need changing.

By Maya Creedman