By now, we should all know better than to complain about another storm. So it’s cold and they’re predicting snow? It’s January in the northeast. Get used to it.
So I won’t complain about the cold. Or the snow.
I won’t even voice my displeasure with the black ice.
But folks, I am going to come right out and say it. The snow days. For the love of all that is good in this world and the sanity of parents near and far, they CAN’T continue.
It wouldn’t be so bad, really, if we parents hadn’t already been counting down to the end of the lengthy winter breaks, before the last storm hit. Just as we thought we’d heard the last “I’m bored,” the news came. There’s a storm a’ coming. A big one. Grab your milk, grab your bread, and batten down the hatches.
Only the hatches have been battened down for weeks now. They’ve played every board game and every video game too. They’ve built every LEGO building and dressed the long-suffering dogs in at least 10 outfits of varying levels of bizarre. They’ve glugged down gallons of milk and munched through loaves of bread.
A snow day in December may test any parent’s fortitude, but you haven’t truly been challenged as a mother (or father) until you’ve faced down a string of snow days just after winter break.
This is the stuff that tries men’s (and women’s!) souls.
And with the spate of snowy days that we’ve encountered of late, and I fear are to come, I declare it time we all face the fact that while we do live in the northeast, and it is January, we are none of us martyrs.
We may been wooed by the summer beauty to settle in this land and then had the audacity to add kids to the mix, but we are required only to put up with snow days, not to actually enjoy them.
So go ahead. Join the chorus of parents complaining loudly and with reckless abandon about our fate in this winterland. Know that you are not alone and allow it to steel your soul as you face another long day of watching cartoons and stopping one brother from bopping the other over the head with the sword from that child-free aunt who just does not think anything through.
If your voice survives the day, you should feel free to reward yourself with a piece of cake. If your feet remain free of itty bitty LEGO imprints, you must add some whipped cream to the aforementioned delicacy because you’re a true magician. And if you did it all without once opening the door and screaming, “Out, out, just go out and play, for crying out loud,” well, then you deserve the greatest gift of all … hire a babysitter and get out for the night.
Consider it Mother Nature’s gift back to you. She owes you one.
How many snow days have you lived through this year so far?
Have you “liked” Inside Out Motherhood on Facebook yet?