We Are Pacing Ourselves

Much like a large portion of the Southeast, we were blanketed with about 8 inches of snow late Sunday night and it doesn’t appear to be melting anytime soon.  In the countdown to the Severe Weather Event I became convinced of at least one thing:  If Luke were to ever lose his job as a preacher he could become a weather man with very little stress making the transition.  When we were watching the snow pour out of the sky I made the mistake of remarking that it seemed a switch had been flipped and we now have weather totally uncharacteristic of our region. He patiently explained to me the reason it now snows in Alabama is that we are in the path of a dipping jet stream. ( I have no idea what I just said. I hope I quoted him correctly.)  I had an epiphany in that moment:  We are officially old.  Want to know how I know this?  Because he was talking about weather anomalies and I was actually interested.  Fascinated, even.  Next we’ll start reading the Almanac for devotions.

I don’t know about you but I love a snow-in but that was back when they consisted of one inch accumulation and the kids went back to school the next day.  In that one day, we would pack all the fun of rolling up a few snowballs that would have as many leaves, sticks, and mud in them as snow, cooking a pot of warm soup to warm cold bellies, and any other games/special requests the kids had that our typical lack of time would deem impossible.  This snow-in isn’t looking like one of those. 

In fact, we were told this morning that school is out for tomorrow and I’m hearing rumors it may be the end of the week before they go back at all.  Much to Sydney’s disappointment, I decided early on I wasn’t going to wear myself out doing all the snow-day activities in 24 hours since it’s likely we can spread them out over five.  Today was cook chicken soup and roast pecans and watch Ramona and Beezus day.  Sydney wanted it to also be Mommy and Me build an igloo and then bake another cake in the Cake Boss decorating set she got for Christmas day.  She isn’t understanding the concept of pacing ourselves or that her mother hates being wet and cold.  So I’m back and forth between feeling like a terrible parent for not making her snow day wishes come true and standing my ground because OH MY HECK WE POTENTIALLY HAVE FOUR MORE DAYS OF THIS and have I mentioned I am old?

(The all-cap desperation in that last sentence may or may not be a sign of impending cabin fever.)

Are y’all pacing yourselves too?  Please tell me yes or else I’ll be guilted in to rolling out kiddie fondant to decorate a miniscule, microwaved cake.  Why do these new-fangled toys make it so messy and complicated to spend quality time with our kids?  Oh my stars.  I just had another epiphany.  I sound like Kate Gosselin on Sarah Palin’s Alaska whining about being cold and miserable and making her poor kids go home when they were having a blast with SARAH no less.  If that ain’t motivation to bake baby cakes and go outside and play igloo I don’t know what is.  

Stay Warm!  Stay Sane!

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