I’m Done with Winter
I never thought I would say this, but I may be done with winter. Like full of winter. Consumed too much winter and now feeling an uncomfortable strain along my waistline.
We are on our tenth snow day. It may be more than that, actually. I wasn’t really keeping track in the beginning, when I was gleefully shrieking that we had off from school… again. You may have noticed that I am a huge fan of breaks. Not such a fan of waking up a certain time every day. So at first I was excited for each snow day. I made hot chocolate and we read books. We baked and watched movies. We crooned at the guinea pig. All was well.
But now, on our second snow day this week, I feel a little shaky. I haven’t had a full work week since Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving ended and I’ve either had a snow day or a sick child cutting into my work schedule. The same amount of work still needs to get done, but there’s no time to do it in.
I told the kids that we need to spend the day being productive because I can feel my mental stamina slipping away from disuse. I told them that we’re spending two hours working on their supplemental reading packet. They weren’t thrilled to hear that. I then followed it up by telling them they needed to have everything finished for the science fair before they had fun. The Wolvog pointed out that he can’t work on his science fair project since it has become a goat rodeo. And I told him goat rodeo or not, it needs to get done. So… wish us luck.
No, really, wish us luck. Like wish us luck that our brains don’t melt away from hours and hours of Candy Crush.
Maybe that’s just me and not the twins.
And while they do their work, I’m going to do my work. Really. And then I’m going to play the non-whore parts of Evita for the ChickieNob as we work on her musical theater education. And we may even work on cookies for our mishloach manot baskets. And I’m going to get out of my pyjamas today and shower. Please check in tomorrow to make sure I’m not curled up on the floor in a little ball, sobbing because I don’t understand how schedules work anymore.
Because it is highly possible that I will end up there, sniffling into a damp spot of carpet. This snow day may be the end of me.
Can you believe I’m saying that? Things must be dire.