After a month of almost consecutive snow days and Winter Break,
this mom is officially in Cabin Fever mode.
I even pulled out my old gowns as a new point of interest.
I have been in a foul mood.
I am not sure quite why.
It’s a combination of things, I am sure.
The lack of sunshine.
My house being at 60 degrees to conserve cash.
The cooking three meals a day,
EVERY day.
O.k. I’ll be honest:
no breakfast
just lunch dinner and the 4th meal.
The daily routine of
Wizards of Waverly Place, Hannah Montana, and Cake Boss
should be envious.
(And just for the rest of you moms who are trying to survive
with a Netflix membership
because the remote
to the digital converter went missing ages ago
and you don’t have any real T.V.
the last of those three shows is the winner of
Best Entertaining TV)
And there’s nothing like a really long
run-on sentence to express the true sentiment
of my last month.
I’ve been dreaming of going to Carlos’ Bakery
for a warm lobster tail or crumb cake.
Of course, in my dreams,
I am decked out fashionably
with my hair done, make-up on, and nails brightly painted.
I guess if my mind really had some imagination
I should have been wearing a Miley wig
and some Wizard glasses.
Because that is what the kids would find entertaining.
But, in my dreams,
I am all alone.
Go figure.
And then I sit to blog.
Because maybe it will help me find myself.
Or at least pull me out of this mood.
And I stumble upon this old photo:
and I remember how awesome my kids are.
And how fast they grow.
And then the smell of a poopy diaper
brings me back to my senses.
Just as Caroline goes flying off the bottom of treadmill.
And for the millionth time
with my kids
we laugh.
And I think
it’s too bad
their teachers don’t get to
see them at their best.
And I tell myself
to embrace these snow days.
Because even though the days go by so very slow.
The years fly by.
And, next winter,
if I am lucky
The Tennessee weather God
may bring no snow at all.
But of course,
by then I may be living in South Dakota.
And LG will still be saying,
“Oh, but this is still nothing
compared to the Winter of ’88.”
And I will no longer wonder how my mom survived
with seven children
because I will be longing
for my childhood
in
Southern California.
Where snow days
don’t exist.
alice w. gold 