We had a little weather event here in Virginia this past week. It snowed. A lot.
I dutifully made three trips to Target last week and stocked up on bread and milk. I considered buying new $50 Lego sets for each of my boys, but then I realized that that would only buy me a few hours of quiet time and then I’d have even MORE Legos in my house.
Lots of people are posting their cute sledding photos on Facebook. It’s fun to see all the kids who look like Ralphie's little brother Randy from A Christmas Story . . . “I can’t put my arms down!” Everyone was so excited last weekend, enjoying each others’ company and tiring themselves out in the snow. But it’s been 7 days now. We’re done.
Except for that one mom. You know the one. Moms are posting all over Facebook about how ready they are for the kids to go back to school on Monday, but not THAT mom. That Mom is NOT ready. She’s enjoying every moment with her precious offspring, and she is treasuring this time with them. What a blessing to have had these wondrous snow-filled days with them.
Well I call bullsh*t.
I love my boys, and I have thoroughly enjoyed little snippets of our time together. The first few days were fun. We slept late, stayed in our pajamas, played in the snow, watched movies, did a puzzle, drank hot chocolate, made chili, and read books. And then the next day happened, with the laundry and the neighbor kids and the stepping-on-melted-snow-with-socked-feet and the “wrestling” and staying up way too late.
We’ve been bowling. We’ve been to the jumpy place. We’ve gone to the Rec Center. We’ve gone out for lunch . . . and dinner . . . and breakfast. I’ve let them play Nerf guns in the house. I’ve let them slide down the basement stairs on their sleds, I pretended not to know that they jumped off the neighbor’s deck into the snow, and I guarantee there’s been a lot of unsupervised sugar consumption.
I’m tired now. By the time they go back, they will have been home for 10 straight days. Hubby went back to work on Monday, so I’ve been in the trenches alone. When they’re home over the summer, they can ride bikes, play ball, and go to the pool – there are lots of ways for them to get their boy energy out. I’m living in a pressure cooker of dirty hair, sweaty socks, and a marathon of Impractical Jokers.
So, That Mom . . . please don’t shame the rest of us with your self-righteous snow-posts. I’m truly glad you enjoy your children. I’m sure you’ll enjoy mine as well. They’ll be right over.