Once upon a time, snow days were filled with the joy of watching flakes drift down, sipping mimosas in the morning, and taking leisurely walks to the bar in the afternoon. However, in recent years, these days off have morphed into what feels like an additional shift without any help, and the sequence typically unfolds like this:
Three Days Before:
You catch wind of a snow forecast and quietly hope it’ll be wrong. You pray that school remains open long enough for you to get to the grocery store before chaos strikes.
Two Days Before:
You venture to the grocery store, only to discover that the predicted 1-3 inches of snow has turned fellow shoppers into a frantic mob grabbing milk, eggs, and butter as if the world is ending. You find yourself muttering that it’s merely snow, and it might not even occur, while you nervously fill your cart with cookies.
One Day Before:
Oops! You realize you forgot to visit the liquor store, and your wine rack is bare. With the prospect of being stuck at home with the kids for an entire day (or more), it’s essential to stock up on wine, beer, and liquor.
Night Before:
You keep an eye on the weather; snow seems unavoidable. You think about retrieving hats, boots, and gloves but hesitate to acknowledge that this snow event is about to happen. Instead, you pour a glass of wine and savor the calm before the storm.
Day Of:
You wake up to enthusiastic shouts of “It’s snowing!” Cursing under your breath, you drag yourself out of bed, and before your coffee brews, the kids bombard you with “When can we go out in the snow?”
You check your phone and confirm what the snow-covered landscape has already revealed: school is closed. You try to accept this with grace, hoping for a day filled with cherished memories. You plan a big breakfast, envisioning snow play and cozy movie time. After an hour of labor over the stove, you serve up some burnt pancakes to an ungrateful family, who asks, “Why do we have to eat breakfast? I want to go out in the snow!”
As you finally sit down to eat your charred pancakes and sip cold coffee, a moment of quiet allows you to scroll through Facebook. You see your overachieving friend, Claire, has already taken her kids outside to play in the snow, and you can’t help but feel inadequate. Good mothers are frolicking outside, not hiding in the kitchen watching the news.
When you finally decide to gather the snow gear, your kids are playing quietly. You sneak back to the kitchen for another cup of coffee and a cookie. Two minutes later, a chorus of “Mom, can we go out in the snow now?” interrupts your peace.
You scour for snow gear and find mismatched gloves, boots that are too small, and an ancient hat. Cursing your lack of preparation, you dig through bags in the basement to find a pair of boots that are a half size too small for your child.
After answering more pleas of “Mom, can we go out now?” you rush upstairs to get dressed, creatively layering yoga pants and sweatpants to form a semblance of snow gear. You think you’re ready, but then your child emerges from the playroom, still in pajamas, asking if he has to take them off.
You realize you have no snow pants. Instead, you grab some athletic pants, chalk it up to good enough, and head back downstairs, where you promptly feel the heat of your three layers.
You explain to your child that pajamas are not suitable for snow and that he must wear boots and leave his toys behind. The wrestling match to get him into snow clothes feels more exhausting than any workout. Just as you finish dressing him, he announces, “Mom, I have to go pee.”
After the undressing and redressing, you finally make it outside. You revel in the beauty of the winter wonderland for a mere five minutes before being bombarded with “Mom, my glove fell off,” and “Mom, I’m cold!” You resort to singing “Do You Want to Build a Snowman?” while feeling a bit resentful.
You build a snowman, only to race back inside to find accessories for its face. After gathering Oreos, a carrot, and some string, you return outside, only to discover your child is crying, claiming the snowman fell over mysteriously.
You rebuild, snap photos, and upload them to social media to compete with Claire. Suggesting hot chocolate, you head back inside, leaving a trail of snow behind. You make hot chocolate and add a generous splash of Bailey’s, realizing it’s only been 30 minutes since you stepped outside.
You turn on a movie and curl up on the couch, while your child is mesmerized by Frozen for the umpteenth time. Meanwhile, you see that Claire has moved on to crafts, painting snow, and even brought snow inside for fun. How does she do it? It’s barely noon, and you’re barely surviving.
Lunchtime arrives, and as you attempt to sneak into the kitchen to eat, you hear, “Mom, I’m hungry.” After preparing lunch, you face a barrage of requests for snacks. You hand over cookies, hoping for a moment of silence.
When boredom strikes again, you remember the stash of Play-Doh upstairs. You excitedly bring it down, but the icing tool looks questionable. You ignore the red flags, determined to be the fun mom. However, you end up making the Play-Doh cake while your child directs you on how to decorate it.
After cleaning up the sticky mess, you hear, “Mom, I’m bored,” and “Can we bake cookies?” Suddenly, baking cookies seems like a brilliant idea. You pull up a recipe but find yourself alone in the kitchen while your child loses interest after dumping flour everywhere.
As the clock ticks, you ponder another spiked hot chocolate, contemplating if Claire needs alcohol to survive this chaos. You realize there are still three hours until it’s socially acceptable to drink.
Finally, you hand over the iPad for some peace and quiet. You check Facebook, feeling envious of Claire’s kids who are happily napping after their exhausting day. You wonder why you didn’t think of the iPad sooner. As you glance out the window at the picturesque snow, you clean up the mess in your entryway, prepare a warm dinner, and pour yourself a glass of wine while praying for school tomorrow.
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