Snow and sand

There’s that old saying, “You can rely on two things: death and taxes.” I am now amending it to say, “You can rely on two things: death, taxes, and snow on the night before preschool. Especially if there’s something special planned.”

Yep, today was another snow day. Neko was especially crushed because today was supposed to the big pajama party where everyone wears their pajamas to school. Want to know how to devastate a four-year-old? Snow out pajama day.

I know I’ve been doing a lot of complaining about snow days, but I’ve got legitimate reasons. If you have children, you probably have normal children who can actually survive a full day in your house. They might even enjoy it and call it some endearing term like “cozy”.

But my children may be part wolf, since after a few hours in the house, they start pacing and that wild look begins to flicker in their eyes. This is why we have a schedule. A firm schedule that involves a pre-planned activity out of the house approximately three hours following wake-up. This activity is followed by lunch and quiet time. After quiet time, they can settle back in for another three hours of play, interjected by dinner and bath. This is how we operate. When the schedule is disturbed, things get ugly.

Like on snow days.

Fortunately, today my mother invited us down to her house for an “outing” which totally saved my hiney. It may not be pajama day, but it was a change of environment, which is good. After quiet time I broke out the new indoor sand table, an under-bed storage bin filled with cornmeal. After trying many containers and sand alternatives, this is the ultimate solution. A long bin provides play space for two. Cornmeal functions like sand, but is edible by little people and dogs who hang around the floor below and sweeps up like a charm. (Props to Susie for making the cornmeal discovery.)

The only downside to the day? I decided to walk down to my mom’s house carrying Ellery and slipped on the newly-fallen snow. While I made sure that Ellery made it down safely, my knee hit the gravel, which produced a nice hamburger effect. Which hurts. Okay, it may not be hip surgery and a SPICA cast, like our friend’s daughter got to endure yesterday, but, um, it does smart. I took pictures, but they’re too gross for even me to post.