Thunderstruck

Last night, David and I were about to fall asleep when we were both scared witless by a monstrous crack of thunder.  Just one. I don't know why.  It had been raining on and off all day, this wasn't a thunderstorm's rumbling approach. One lonely thunderhead must have been floating by and encountered some extreme shift in the atmosphere.  It sounded as though a portion of the sky had exploded.  

"BOOM!"  David and I both lay motionless, shocked, silent.  Then I said, "Bee is totally going to wake up." David agreed. Sure enough, a few seconds later I heard her pitiful cry of, "Mommeeeeeee."  

I ran to her room and scooped a very shaken Bee into my arms.  She lay with me on the couch for some time, shocked awake. I whispered reassurances. I could feel her eyelashes fluttering on my face as she lay there silently, blinking into the darkness, trying to comprehend what had occurred.  She didn't want to go back to sleep, and I don't blame her. Finally David had to come in and help put her back to bed.  

How do you explain thunder to a small child? You can't.  You can just say, "It was a big noise, but it's gone now, honey."  You can try to protect your child from many scary realities, but thunderstorms are, unfortunately, unavoidable.