Today the temperature took an upswing, and suddenly Neko was ready to be outside. She and Tom built this snowman. As challenging as it’s been to be inside with our three stir-crazy ones, I was a little sad to see the snow melting. We don’t get that kind of snow around here that often. I’m crossing my fingers that when they’re a little older and ready for sledding we get socked with another one of these storms.
Neko made it outside for about seven minutes, and then decided the cold outweighed the winter wonderland. So in our attempt keep everyone happy and peaceful, I threw her in a massive bubble bath.
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.
I used to have a lot of anxiety about insects and spiders. Spiders especially. I consider myself brave about most things, but for some reason, those creepy crawly things kinda get to me. There’s that whole Indiana Jones thing where he goes through all those horrible places including caves full of snakes and bugs. I’d take those snakes any day. Hands down.
But parenthood has softened me. I would love to say I have become a kinder, gentler spirit who is learning to love nature through my child’s eyes, but that’s not it. Instead, it is that I am totally, completely surrounded by plastic insects.
It all started when we bought a tube of plastic insects for Neko. But then Shep wanted them, too, but they both wanted that big black spider at the same time, so, fine, They were about two bucks at Target, so we bought duplicates. I bet if Srgjan Kerim could buy world peace for $2, he would totally do it.
So then we had two tubes, and then I think someone else gave us some, and then there was the whole tube of butterflies, and then, omigod it became a virtual plastic infestation.
So now I don’t even flinch when I encounter that massive brown (plastic) spider in the shower or the (plastic) grasshopper with the drying dishes. Desensitization or sleep-deprivation, I’m not quite sure, but it seems to be working.
Potty training, two weeks in.
Peeing? Excellent. Still needs reminders, but has even ventured into the bathroom on his own without prompting.
Overnight? Amazing. We’re waking him up to go before we go to bed, and he makes it through until morning. I’d love to take credit for this, but it’s clearly genetic, as Neko had no trouble at night either.
Pooping? Not quite as good. We’re on day two where he’s actually used the toilet, but only after being bribed by a sucker. But a 25 calorie, 10 grams of sugar bribe is okay in my book in comparison to scraping poop off of my child and all the things he came in contact before I discovered what occurred. I never had to do this with Neko, so I just hope I’m not still handing out suckers in high school.
Someday, when this is all over, I will confess to those of you whose bathrooms have been the victims of Shep’s not-quite-perfect aim. But I will say that I’m traveling with Clorox wipes.
Try not to be totally jealous of my glamorous life.
This morning, the sun was out. And the temperature was well above freezing. Things began to thaw, even our kids. They spent the entire morning on the patio, running around in their pajamas. Even breakfast was served, and they dragged out pillows and blankets. I think we were just moments away from outright refusal to ever come back inside.
Neko went to school, and Susie and I took the little kids for a long walk. And then I let Ellery play to her hearts content in the recycling bins.
Come on spring….
You’d think the kids hadn’t seen the sun in months. Oh, wait. They haven’t.
We received bubbles as a favor at Noah’s birthday party, so Tom and the kids cracked them out when we got home. Obviously, they were excited.
I think we’re ready for spring.
Today we had two birthday parties in the span of six hours. The first was from 10am-12pm, the next beginning at 1pm. With a quick stop at Chipotle in between, we made it through. The kids had a fabulous time at both. The parents had a great time, too, but are exhausted. The kids are exhausted, but in that “I’ve been at the beach all day” way. It’s events like this that the 2:3 ratio gets the best of us.
I neglected to take any pictures until the very end, where I snapped this quick photo of Ellery, who, if she could talk would be saying, “For Pete’s sake, will someone please just put me down for a nap?”
