Lights out.

Do you have a super power? Most moms do. I have a few.

One: I can pee on command. Two: I possess an internal clock, so I am always aware of how much time has elapsed (helpful when working in news). Three: I have an abnormally large mouth, so I take really big bites of food and consequentially, I eat quickly. Meaning, I can consume an entire Hot 'n Spicy McChicken Sandwich in less than two minutes. It disgusts my mother. But, I never worry about my food getting cold!

My fourth power could be viewed as a weakness, but sometimes, it comes in handy. I am a very light sleeper.

So at 4:45 this morning when the electricity suddenly went out, I woke up immediately, infuriated.

See, we live in Arizona. And here, even though it is September 10, it is still 100 degrees or more outside during the day. Which means, at 4:45 a.m., it's about 90 degrees. And when the air conditioning turns off, you know right away. Especially if you're a light sleeper, like me.

So, as soon as the power died, I awoke with a start. The stagnant air around me was already warming up. I looked around. Our usually glowing alarm clock was black. The night light in Bubby's room? Dead.

Silence.

I nudged Dill. "The power went out," I muttered. He jumped up frantically, thinking he'd overslept. He fetched his phone, sighed with relief, and set its alarm for 5:15. And then, as if nothing happened, he dozed back to sleep.

I, on the other hand, could NOT go back to sleep. Unlike Dill, who prefers to feel like he's in his mother's womb when sleeping, I need to be cold in order to drift into Dreamland. Not only must the room temperature be 79 degrees at the very warmest, I also need a fan blowing on high speed. If I am hot, or even warm, I am uncomfortable. My feet start to swell. I sweat. I toss. I turn. I DO NOT SLEEP.

So, when the power goes out in the middle of the night (which has happened about four times this summer), I get really, really pissed off.

After trying desperately to return to sleep, I decided to figure out what was going on. I stumbled through the darkness to my computer desk, where I keep my bills. Fetched the one from SRP, grabbed my phone out of my purse, and used it as a light source to find the power company's phone number.

Called the number. Ring. "Hello, you've reached SRP, blah blah blah. Report an outage: press 1."

I obeyed.

"We are currently aware of the outage in the Mesa area. Power will be restored around 6:45 a.m. We apologize for the inconvenience."

If you thought I was pissed off before, well, let's just say I was really pissed after hearing that message. TWO MORE HOURS. I started imagining my food spoiling in the refrigerator and I wanted to personally kick the woman on the automated message in the face. It's hot, it's 4:49 a.m., and I, the exhausted pregnant lady, want to be sleeping. And she's merely "sorry for the inconvenience."

Well, lady, how inconvenient would it be if you DIDN'T HAVE A FACE????

And then, I heard it: Bubby stirring. In her crib. Poor thing inherited my light sleeper super power.

Next thing I know, I've got Bubby in the bed with me, Dill snoozing away, and I am still not sleeping. And now, it's even hotter, because Bubby is pretty much like a portable space-heater.

Five-fifteen rolled around, the house still dark as ever. Dill's alarm went off and he roamed the apartment, in search of light. He returned with a lit candle, a flickering beacon bobbing through the room and into the bathroom. Poor guy got ready for work by candlelight. Just like a pioneer, don'tcha know.

For the next 45 minutes, Bubby proceeded to grab my boobs, tickle me, sing songs, fake snore, sit up, roll over, ask "Where's Daddy?" and do just about everything BUT go back to sleep. I couldn't blame her, though. It was already about 90 degrees inside our apartment, and Bubby can't sleep when it's hot, either. Plus, Daddy appeared to be having fun with a pretty light in the next room.

Curse you, SRP!

And then, at 6:00, as if on cue, the fan turned started turning again.

Praise His holy name.

I put Bubbers back in her crib and went to sleep, comfortable in my cold wind tunnel. We didn't wake up until 3 hours later.

I learned two things from last night's electric-less adventure. One: A back-up generator would be really nice to have in the future and two: It would have sucked to be a pioneer.