8:30 am: Lorelei and I have already screamed at each other over the quantity of honey on her waffle.
9:00 am: It’s not even snowing, it is sleeting. Freezing raining. A few flakes mix in occasionally, but mostly it’s sleet.
11:30 am: Big kid is outside playing in the ice in nothing but an Elsa dress.
12:30 pm: I am still in my pajamas.
1:00 pm: I fear I may have lost one child under Mt. Laundry.
1:30 pm: We are six hours into this winter storm and are heading into total anarchy.
2:30 pm: What is the appropriate time to open a beer when snowed in? Asking for a friend.
3:00 pm: Social media is starting to whine that we’re only getting ice and not snow. Blaming the meteorologists. Side bar: This gets old. Meteorologists are literally predicting the future, and you can’t even figure out what to eat for dinner. They tell you repeatedly the various scenarios, but when the one you latched onto doesn’t pan out you gather your pitchforks. Laugh about it, but don’t get all snitty to the weather people who are trying to save your life. Remember that storm two years ago? They tried to tell you to get off the roads, and then businesses didn’t bother to close, and you got stuck for eight hours. I would much rather them over-predict than under. /sidebar
3:30 pm: Small child has turned the dog into a desk
4:00 pm: I have ruined Lorelei’s life at least three times today. There is talk of mutiny.
5:00 pm: Anna wandered around that castle by herself for years and never noticed a room with 8,000 salad plates? It must have had 8,000 of everything else, too. That’s a big room.
6:00 pm: Still in my jammies. Soon it’ll be late enough for that to be legit again.
6:15 pm: Child the first is walking around the house yelling, “mommy?!” I have decided to change my name.
7:00 pm: Captivity hour 12 – this snow sucks. I blame the meteorologists.