Save Us All

I am always hoping for a Snow Day. The picture is that of snow boots (which my children now all have), snow suits (which they got for Christmas - the first official snow suits they have ever owned), hot cocoa - which we have in our pantry, snow covering the ground (which there is) and a fun and frisky attitude that screams, "Let's Go Sledding!!".

We have all that.

But it is very very very cold. And I totally sound like a mother when I say, "No, you can not go out and play in the snow because it is negative 36 degrees out."

So then they ask, "Can we go to the gym to go swimming?" This one I am reluctant to say no to because I would like to go to the gym. Unfortunately, the common sense that comes with being a mother says in the darkness that is my mind at this point after spending 2 days alone at home with my kids "you should not let them be in the cold after being in a pool." So - because the other voice is selfishly trying to convince me by saying, "who cares - go, exercise, release some of that pent up craziness - exercise before you maim one of them." I run the idea by BigGuy. He agrees - swimming is not a good idea. On the same hand - he was practically running out of the door to work this morning, probably breathing a sigh of relief that it wasn't so cold his workplace was closing down..........

Here we are. In the house. The children are bickering over an imaginary dessert plate that is apparently magical. SuperStar has control of the dessert plate (which is the lid of the giant plastic pink tea pot turned upside down) and Spidey wants to have it - or at least to have a smaller version of it (he holds an upside down sparkly plastic purple plate being balanced on top of a pink plastic cup - claiming this too is a magical dessert plate). SuperStar won't allow it - apparently he has been designated as main dish and she is dessert. Babers wants only to crush all the things they hold and then hit them in the side of the head with them - because that is apparently what a three year old most enjoys doing. I find myself sitting on the floor - trying to reason with the children. "Why can't we all have magical dessert plates?" "Why can't you take turns doing the main dish?" "Who is doing the apertiff?" Then Babers throws a dinosaur at me and I realize that this entire arguement over an imaginary magical plate filled with desserts is the direct result of them staying up, snuggling with me and watching Top Chef last night. I wonder for a moment if this is my fault. No, split second - I wonder for a split second - in my mind I envision all the children disappearing and I have a magical plate of desserts. They are delicious - it is quiet - then "thunk" Babers hits me with a dinosaur and he smells poopie. Discussion and Dream sequence over - time to change the diaper. I leave the olders behind to fight a ridiculous battle over an imaginary magical dessert plate and think........

I have spent too many hours with my children and No more Top Chef for them.