Wednesday evening or Thursday morning (I can’t remember now, it seems so long ago) we got the call that there would be no school. I played with the idea of going to the gym but after wrangling 5yo into his snow clothes and watching him frolick, I decided to eat something sugary instead and just let them all be, rather than harassing them into the car. Thursday was the Snow Day. That evening we got another call about Friday. Friday turned out to be Snohmygod. Really? ‘Tis a tad dramatic but that was the phrase that was coined.
Saturday was just the weekend, but felt like another day in a long line of days without guidelines or deadlines. Saturday was Snowmageddon.
Sunday turned out to be the Snownami, as the snow started to melt everywhere, and parents everywhere breathed a collective hopeful breath that it would be melted enough for Monday to be a school day. But Monday was Wtf, Snow? Monday should have been a school day, but that lazy ass snow hung around like someone who can’t take a hint and just leave already. Monday was agonizing with the things that could finally be done as the roads were plowed or scraped or swept in most places, but still not enough to warrant going back to school. Monday also sucked a bit extra because we couldn’t find our shovel, and had to make do in order to move some frigging snow. Monday night might also suck a bit because I had a tall glass of water before bed and I can hear the snow melt drizzling down the roof and pipes, like a drunk husband in the bathroom, or like a real asshole pouring water from high when they know you really need to powder your nose. Way to go snow, way to go.
Doomsday Prepping
Because snow is apparently the end of the world, we were preparing for it. Husband charged batteries for the flashlights, the leapsters, phones, ipad, laptop, but not the car that has the chains. He reloaded my car with dry firewood from the barn and moved the outdoor pile into the garage, and then checked petrol levels in the jerry cans.
Snow was coming down thick and fast, and we got 15 + inches.
We have (a shit ton?) 6 toilets to share and flush throughout the house, so I wasn’t worried about running out of water. But we didn’t lose power and consequently the water pump, so we didn’t have to ration our bathroom breaks, and I still only have the 2 toilets to clean as a priority, and the rest can bugger off for a while longer.
The boys spent too long inside, annoying each other and watching lego game out-take movies waiting for the power to go out, but it didn’t go out, so they kept wanting to watch more instead of going outside to play in the white wonder that is usually so scarce. Eventually I changed out of my pajamas which signalled the end of indoor slouchery; everyone put on snow clothes and went outside to sled and whine about the cold.
There were no injuries, even though the boys were sledding head first into snow-covered rocks, so the first aid kits remain mostly unused. There were no road accidents on our street, though dudes on 4 wheelers pulling dudes on sleds at high speed went up and back numerous times. There were no marauders – always a relief – and there were no asteroids falling through the atmosphere. No bleeding from the eyes or swarms of locusts (maybe they fot frozen), no pillaging of Fred Meyer. So all in all, a pretty piss poor end of the world.
We didn’t use ANY of our emergency food supplies, which was a good dose of reality in terms of how often we actually need to go shopping, and there is still a few drops of milk left for the boys to argue about. We didn’t cook anything on top of the fireplace, and we didn’t need to melt snow for drinking. We actually could have driven around town (the whole time?) yesterday afternoon, but chose to sit in front of the fire for a little while longer. I think we could have managed school today, but the boys aren’t complaining about another day playing legoes and I’m not complaining because they are upstairs doing it and there is no shouting (loud enough for me to hear) coming from that direction (cue the extended interruption).
So next time (I just downloaded the Red Cross Earthquake app) we will be prepared with all the things we didn’t use this weekend, including 3 bottles of red wine, yet unopened. That is the real disaster.
Our Own Winter Olympics
Far be it for me to question the schedule of the winter olympics, or the summer version, but I am at a loss as to why there are events going on before the opening ceremony. On this same note, watching delayed telecasts is awful. There should be a channel that is live whenever those elite athletes are eating their hearts out in their chosen field. Waiting until 2pm blows.
Meanwhile, down home we have been having our own version of the winter olympics, as I’m sure most parents do in snowy climates, but this is my first (inaugural? ) time.
My events have included the gymnastics of wrangling monkeys into their respective snow clothes, and cross country trekking from the fridge to the pantry (and the back door) to find more snacks for the other competitors.
The boys have competed in such events as cross country whinging, skating on thin ice, lego shot put, and downhill luge.
And instant replays.
Both Husband and I eventually took part in russian drinking games, but had the luxury of showers and fully enclosed toilets. No #sochifail here.
A birthday weekend
I am grateful that my kids are not assholes very much of the time and that they have friends. I am thankful that their friends and mine want to hang out with them and invite them to birthday parties. I am also thankful that I have been able to make it a priority to include the gym in my weekly schedule, so that I remember not to eat all of the boys’ leftover birthday treats as well as 2 servings of my own at said parties. With 3 kids worth of friends, that can be a lot of parties, and a week or so ago we had 4 parties in one weekend! Husband was away for all of them, so I valiantly packed and napped and organised the boys to 3 of them, and saved my sanity by asking our sitter to help so I could go out for the 4th one on my own. I did manage not to put myself into a diabetic coma during the entire weekend, or at the end of it, due mostly to the (brain washing) good intentions imparted by well-intentioned folk at the gym. Stay chipper, my friends.
Now that 6.5yo (really 6.75) is in elementary school, and 5yo is heading there in 6 short months (wtf?), the boys are meeting more people who don’t think they’re assholes – bless their hearts, and mine, I must be doing something right *sob* – and there will be even more parties, and consequently, more calories. Presumably, this will continue for another decade, at which point no one will want me to go with them to their friends’ little shindigs. On the flipside, hopefully that will be the point when parents start having kickass parties of their own where kids are either not allowed, or can take care of themselves in a bonus room with an xbox or something. And parent parties will have different kinds of party foods, me thinks.
Chug! Chug! Chug!
Gym Time
After a sore ankle, the snow, valentines day candy and a high stakes game of poker with my mummy friends using calories instead of betting chips, I need to get my ass back to the gym. I really enjoy going, but I don’t enjoy being schooled by the oldies.
In the aerobics classes, they know the routines better than I do, have trendier outfits and clap and cheer during some of the songs. In the weights class, they lift heavier weights than me, and in the swim aerobics class, they don’t want to make room for me in the pool. And actually, they don’t want to make room for me anywhere, because they have their favourite spots and that is that. I suppose that is the way they do everything, in their spot, get out of my spot, etc. My grandmothers are the same, it’s their way or the highway.
Some of them are friendly, sometimes the guys are super friendly, but some of the ladies are quite sullen. Should I smile and chat, or just get out of their way?
When I went to the water class for the first time, I think one of the old guys half-heartedly tried to feel me up, or at least talk it up to his buddies. Sheesh! Nothing actually happened, but it was like a group of 13 year old boys snickering together in a movie – embarrassing, a little bit lame, generally not cool. I haven’t been back in a hurry. I love being in the pool, but if the sullen old gals won’t move the heck over, I don’t want to risk getting too close to the jokers. What a conundrum, being shown up or felt up. Maybe I should just stick to the steppers, then I could kick everybody’s asses if it came down to it.
Just Keep Swimming
3yo used to swim for 30 minutes twice a week, which meant that those days were eaten up with something short to do before swimming, getting ready to go to swimming, getting ready for swimming, watching totes adorbs monkeys splash around,
then trying to get him out of the pool, trying to get him out of the shower, snacks in the car, possibly driving for a few extra minutes in the hope that he would fall asleep before we got home, then taking a breather before the afternoon school run. I changed all that to include him in his brothers’ lessons, but changed that again when it wasn’t working out to be as much a proper lesson for him, but admittedly it’s totally awesome to hold a slippery cutie pie while his brothers jump and splash. So we are back to group lessons at a new pool, and it was hard yakka last week. I’m expecting the same tomorrow, even though I will try to be more prepared.
I need to get out the Vitamin C spray again, even though the boys will scream like I’m spraying them with acidic sand, and I’d love to be able to oil them after a shower, but last week we couldn’t even manage a shower. The big boys are too old to be in the ladies’ dressing room, but I’m not going to let them go into the men’s room by themselves. Ho hum. So we ended up changing in a corner of the corridor which went to the ladies’ room, all the while turning their heads away and speaking in stern whispers – which everyone could no doubt hear because of the accoustic qualities of tile – about privacy and minding our business and trying to get them to hurry the bloody hell up so we could leave already. Longest 7 minutes everrrrr. Of course, the judgy mcjudger mums of girls were watching me surreptiously, with either bemusement or disdain, while their offspring frolicked in a nice warm shower, and probably wondering what the bloody hell my problem was. Obviously, it is the lack of family change room real estate.
I might be able to shower them briefly under the pool shower, but there is also not much space around the pools before one is standing on the skirting boards, or sitting with your neck cricked right underneath the wall-mounted pool equipment, and people were actually standing in the immediacy of the spray zone whilst watching the swimmers last week. Space is totes at a premium.
Dinner afterwards was only *just* not a write-off. I can’t chance the drive home because one or all will fall asleep and wake stupidly early for breakfast. We went for Mexican cuisine; we have been successfully eating a full meal of tacos at home which pleases everyone (except for Husband because he is a boo-hoo for the mess. They are crunchy! Just deal. In other news, they are kids!), but try to do that in public to your detriment, peril and humiliation. Picky fucking eaters, jumping, yelling, cry baby bullshit, the whole nine yards. Well, maybe 7 and a half.
Anyhoo, tomorrow night, Husband will be able to partake in this delight, and I might check out with a margherita,
or a cowboy boot filled with beer, or I’ll just sneak home and put myself to bed, because swimming is exhaust.
A Titillating Evening
We have received tickets to a show in Portland, and are driving there now.
But, of course, we are later than we would have liked because our sitter tonight is a friend so I really wanted to linger and chat, but had to pfaff about with safety pins and my dress, then try not to throw my child on the floor when it was time to leave because the adorable widdle sausage was tired, cuddly and clingy. There is a crazy thick fog about, which makes driving on the highway a little more hair raising than usual, and that is also making us a bit slow.
Husband had a skin procedure near his eye yesterday, and was standing around all day today, so he is a little puffy right now. Some might say puffy to the point of swollen, a round with the champ swollen, even.
Combine the bar room brawler with my chesty dress, this will make for an interesting evening. If we were in a Clint Eastwood movie, then this evening would get really interesting, really fast. But I think it more likely that we will sip water and get take out from Burgerville on the way home -type interesting. Because thats how we roll sometimes.
Final Closure on the Christmas Tree Debacle
Husband is now taking his seasonal decorative-related frustration out with saws and snippers.
Tea for -? Me, just me.
I was trying to get a photo of my big cheesy smile to show how silly I look grinning at everyone for no apparent reason (but I looked sillier – or worse – sitting in the car snapping pics of my choppers. So) Not apparent to those who don’t have young kids, that is. Even in the gym class, I was grinning like a fool with every step up and power step touch and all that. Walking out in the carpark, meandering because I could, before I found where I parked the car, no cheeky monkeys hanging off me and arguing about seat belts already. Driving up the driveway at home, I couldn’t quite figure out what I had forgotten, but I think it was merely a feeling of quiet in the car, and no drawn out discussions about whose turn it is to check the mail.
And now the house is quiet and still; I’m going to have some tea and do a spot of sewing, and perhaps spend a minute or two in the bathroom with no probability of being interrupted. If the doorbell rings I will be bloody annoyed.
Back to School
As much as I am ready for the boys to go back to school next week, and as much as the boys are ready to go, I am actually not ready for the boys to go back to school next week.
Aside from sleeping in, and staying in pajamas on more days than just Christmas Day, and screen time up the yin yang, we have had a different schedule that has not involved school drop offs or pick ups, or homework or library books. And in other news, there is still a little bit of wrapping paper hiding in the corners and festivities hanging around, plus new clothes and Christmas Day lunch linens awaiting some form of attention. How will I manage the school lunches and rain jackets and matching shoes when I still have the holidays nice and warm around our shoulders??
I won’t be able to include last minute adventures in our day (today we went for a bushwalk through the Lower 48 and came back covered with prickles and scratches, but with a renewed sense of determination – we are *this close* to connecting the path to the backyard, but were still bsck in time for the swimming lesson, sans shoes and goggles because in our haste I ditched the gumboots but forgot the replacements), and I will have to once again be a task master for homework. Plus take care of the wrapping paper and lunch linens and the dishwasher and mountains of laundry, and hopefully still have time for gym classes. Oh boy.
And playing Solitaire, that will go out the window, too. I once finished a game in around 2 minutes! Best game ever! Now I am down to about 4 minutes, and I suppose I’m not really looking to get back to my former glory, but it is something that I have enjoyed during the school holidays. Probably while the boys were playing lego in their pajamas or eating the rest of the rice krispies (5yo).
These holidays were awesome for us. We stayed home, had quiet family time, enjoyed celebrations with the right amount of thankfulness and present excitement, played with toys and stayed in our pajamas. Totes amazeballs. Now I need to wash the pajamas and put away the toys, boo.
4 Princes and Me 