Ok, so let's start with how I stole the storm title from somewhere on facebook. I didn't make that up, but it kind of sounds like something I would make up, so roll with it.
Well Winter smiled on me. My fair city got over 14 inches of snow - and not just any snow but THUNDERsnow.
I didn't even know that existed.
When the rumbling began in the wee hours of the night on Thursday morning I started cussing out the neighbors - I thought they were messing around with their trash cans again.
Our neighbors let their kids play around with their trash bins - kick stuff at it, move them around, etc. It's gross and rude and loud and makes me cuss.
So neighbors whose names I don't know (but still don't like) - I'm sorry. But how about NOT letting your little kid play with your car keys anymore? Because he likes to hit the car alarm button and that makes me cuss, too.
But I digress . . . .
So the thundersnow cancelled school. I was actually dancing ridiculous dances of joy Wednesday night.
Thursday morning at 6 a.m., I was not.
Here's why:
Paul wakes me up at 6:03 telling me to get out of bed. His car got stuck in the street and I have to help him push it out of the deep deep snow.
I threw on 2 sweatshirts, a heavy coat, my boots, and gloves and went out to save my husband.
And the second I stepped outside I ceased to be useful.
When a crisis hits, Paul scares me. He is very calm in a scary way. Stern. Angry-calm. It freaks me out.
Well I couldn't drive the car through the tracks well enough so we opted to shovel his half of the drive instead. We have one snow shovel. So Paul got that one and that meant I had to get resourceful. I found a push broom but that was highly ineffective. Paul eventually saw my pitiful attempts to sweep the snow away and gave me a garden shovel. No joke. I tried my hardest (to over zealously shovel that heavy snow with a garden tool) and I have the sore back to prove it. We eventually got the car safely back into the garage.
Praise Jesus!
Let's have a cup of HOT coffee and maybe go back to bed.
I was able to drink half a cup of coffee before I heard the familiar gagging sound of a child throwing up coming from up stairs. When I got upstairs Emma had thrown up and was running a fever.
OK, let's bathe her and then maybe I can have a cup of coffee and snuggle up with her.
NOPE.
Paul informs me he will be working from home.
This is both good and bad news.
GOOD because I know he is safe, but BAD because it is impossible to keep the kids away from him, quiet, and occupied while he tries to work.
They love him lots and pretty much think he is the best. I eventually banished him to the basement - he was distracting the children.
Paul also expects food that is more labor intensive than a banana, so I had to get cooking.
Paul took a few breaks to go out and shovel the drive and Lexi went with him. After coming in cold and wet she decided she was DONE with the snow.
Friday promised to be a better day. Emma seemed to be doing better - no more vomiting, and just a slight fever.
Emma was up for a few hours during the night and then at 6 a.m. I woke up to her opening the door to her bedroom. This is unusual because she sleeps in a crib. The little acrobat figured out how to flip herself out of her crib. She's fine - she really knows how to stick her landing.
Ok - I'm up. This was not the morning I had envisioned. Snow days are supposed to be about sleeping in and being lazy!
The day didn't get any better. Emma refused to nap - despite 4 hours of trying to put her down. One time she escaped her crib only to get naked and poop on the floor. True story.
Currently, we wait for Daddy to get home from work for that means Mommy is off duty. The house is a mess. The dishes aren't done. He's lucky I managed to sneak in a shower.
I'm done with the Great Blizzard of Oz - can I click my heels three times and go back to work now?
