I survived the Polar Vortex of 2019! And what’s more, I was able to reflect on how far I’ve come as a mother.
Remember the Snowpocalypse of 2014? For those of you still suffering from PTSD (Post-Traumatic Snow Disorder), recall that five years ago we had a winter break that was extended by essentially seven days thanks to a blizzard and record-low temps. I was literally trapped indoors with a moody 15-year-old, bickering twin 12-year olds and a precocious 9-year old for three full weeks. Each night, I would offer up several Hail Marys, burn incense and sacrifice a chicken cordon bleu in hopes that someone, somewhere, would get the schools open. Scrabble and breakfast for dinner can take you only so far before Lego’s start looking like potential weapons and one begins seriously considering a permanent move to Boca, sunburn and geriatrics be damned.
But no longer! With our oldest away at college and none of the rest emerging from hibernation until noon, at the earliest, snow days are now fun days. I anticipated with delight the dangerous wind chills and the icy roads that would keep us stuck at home by the fire with nothing to do but watch Netflix and eat cookie dough. I applauded when the two-hour delay became a cancellation, and I still had at least three hours to myself to clean the house, stalk Facebook and binge more cookie dough. Vortex schmortex. It was awesome.
So, to all you parents with young ones at home, I suppose I’m offering a warm light at the end of future Snowmageddon tunnels. Hang in there!
Peace out.
