I was just enjoying the peace and quiet in my house on Tuesday evening. A and E were fast asleep. Eldest daughter and boy in the middle were in bed early, following their fabulous two week vacation at Grandma N's in London. I was checking the news when suddenly I heard a noise outside, which I thought was an ambulance siren or a motorbike. Over the noise of my air conditioning, I opened the patio doors but sure enough it was an air raid siren which although we have unfortunately become accustomed to over the past couple of weeks I just wasn't expecting it.
I was home alone. Our safe room is on the ground floor which is actually boy in the middle's bedroom. Eldest daughter was sleeping in there too since Uncle J was with us on a flying visit for work to Israel. I dashed upstairs to A and E's room. I looked at them both sleeping in their beds. The slight sweaty mop of curls from the summer heat in their room, the covers kicked off and the realisation that at age 4.5 they are actually very tall and long in their beds. As I ran up the stairs I planned to pick up one and take her down and come back for the second. However when I entered the room my motherly instincts kicked in and I couldn't do it. Deep down I knew the chance of any danger occurring to any of us from a rocket attack was minimal, and possibly the most danger could have come from falling down the stairs in a panic. However looking down at my sleeping beauties I couldn't bring myself to choose who to take first, so with adrenelin coursing through my body I did what I think any twin Mummy would do - I picked up one in my left arm and then the other in my right arm and with them both still fast asleep I somehow managed to carry them both downstairs.
We arrived in somewhat of a heap into boy in the middle's room where I lay A down on his bed and E lucked out and carried on sleeping on top of me as I collapsed onto his bed.
They carried on sleeping, I checked facebook and whatsapp on my phone, we listened out for the distant booms of the iron dome, and then a few minutes later boy in the middle asked if we could all just get off his bed now and leave. We only have to remain in the safe room for 10 minutes so I managed to get to a vertical position whilst still holding E and carried her upstairs. The difference with the return journey back to their room was, with no sign of danger, I gladly carried them back up one at a time.
It was a small moment of my evening but left my heart pounding, and an incident that I hope I won't have to repeat in the future.
I was home alone. Our safe room is on the ground floor which is actually boy in the middle's bedroom. Eldest daughter was sleeping in there too since Uncle J was with us on a flying visit for work to Israel. I dashed upstairs to A and E's room. I looked at them both sleeping in their beds. The slight sweaty mop of curls from the summer heat in their room, the covers kicked off and the realisation that at age 4.5 they are actually very tall and long in their beds. As I ran up the stairs I planned to pick up one and take her down and come back for the second. However when I entered the room my motherly instincts kicked in and I couldn't do it. Deep down I knew the chance of any danger occurring to any of us from a rocket attack was minimal, and possibly the most danger could have come from falling down the stairs in a panic. However looking down at my sleeping beauties I couldn't bring myself to choose who to take first, so with adrenelin coursing through my body I did what I think any twin Mummy would do - I picked up one in my left arm and then the other in my right arm and with them both still fast asleep I somehow managed to carry them both downstairs.
We arrived in somewhat of a heap into boy in the middle's room where I lay A down on his bed and E lucked out and carried on sleeping on top of me as I collapsed onto his bed.
They carried on sleeping, I checked facebook and whatsapp on my phone, we listened out for the distant booms of the iron dome, and then a few minutes later boy in the middle asked if we could all just get off his bed now and leave. We only have to remain in the safe room for 10 minutes so I managed to get to a vertical position whilst still holding E and carried her upstairs. The difference with the return journey back to their room was, with no sign of danger, I gladly carried them back up one at a time.
It was a small moment of my evening but left my heart pounding, and an incident that I hope I won't have to repeat in the future.
