Facing One of My Fears as a Mom During a Missile Alert—and Getting Through It

Tonight, one of my real fears as a mother came true: I was home alone with all three of my young kids during a missile alert in Israel.

My husband was out. My father-in-law had already helped me get the kids home earlier, and I waved him off like everything was fine. Forty-five minutes later, the alert came in: prepare for incoming rockets. Maybe in a few minutes. Maybe not. Could be Yemen. Could be Iran. Who knows anymore?

I did what moms everywhere do when the impossible becomes reality. I moved. I acted.

I woke up my two-year-old, scooped up the baby, put shoes on my four-year-old, and tried to keep my cool—until the four-year-old started chattering nonstop. I snapped. I told him to stop talking.

Not my finest parenting moment—but it was real.

We made it outside. A kind neighbor helped us cross the street to a safer space. Someone else carried my middle child while I juggled the baby and my oldest. After the all-clear, they helped us back home.

And that’s when it hit me: I did it.

It was terrifying. It was chaotic. It was far from perfect. But it was doable.

A friend once told me that going from one kid to two—and then from two to three—feels impossible until you’re just doing it. That the first time is always the hardest. And then, somehow, your instincts take over. You just get through it.

So yes, tonight one of my fears came true. And I met it in my pajamas, with a screaming baby on one arm and a talking tornado on the other.

We’re safe. We’re okay. And I now know: even in the storm, I can be the calm.