Today is a snow day here on the East Coast.
Even though we are a mid-Atlantic state, this causes a great deal of consternation among the local officials.
No matter what show you are watching on TV, every 20 minutes or so, you will get a weather teaser from an overly-excited looking weatherman (person?) having his fifteen minutes of fame:
Snow headed our way...what you need to do to be prepared!
Break out your shovels... how much snow is coming your way? Tune in at 10 to find out!
Arctic air racing our way...ways to stay warm and out of the dangerous chill!
Um, HELLO, PEOPLE!!
We got like an inch and a half of snow!
So the kids are outside enjoying their romp through the scant snow cover right now.
I told them they will need to be outside for at least thirty minutes.
Why, you ask?
Because that is how long it takes to get them all decked out and ready to go.
Six gloves (and many single gloves posted on match.com, looking for partners)
and three pairs of snow pants.
All this for one and a half inches of snow!!
Hell, these kids are now fully prepared to climb Mt. Everest!
I'll even throw in Gracie as the Sherpa!
Gracie as sherpa:
Interestingly, my kids have apparently grown in leaps and bounds since last Christmas.
Trey needed to wear Chris's snow pants from last year.
Chris needed to wear Kate's snow pants from last y ear
(KEY POINT- no matter the temptation, always buy your daughter gender neutral snowpants that can be passed down to her brothers, no matter how much she wants the fuschia, rhinestone encrusted ones)
and Kate, oh my GOSH, needed to wear MY snow pants!
(Yes, I hang my head in shame for even owning snow pants. I sled every year. What can I say?)
Of course, I am like eighteen million sizes bigger than my daughter.
Honestly, the poor girl could have curled up in there with six of her friends and had a sleepover.
So I safety pinned the pants in four places to her fleece shirt and sent her on her way.
For the first time, I realized, I will not be buying her new snow pants on closeout in a month or so. No more sale pants for her.
She will be who knows how tall next year.
Next year she will be more or less in her woman's body
looking down on her graying haired mother
(who is losing the fight to not dye her hair til age 40).
Heck, next year she may even feel TOO COOL to be out there tromping around with her brothers by the creek.
I think I will go whip up a batch of hot cocoa
with extra marshmallows.
It IS a snow day, after all.
Traditions and belt buckles.
5 hours ago