I’m Snow Done

I’m sitting in the bathroom, writing while my kids splash around in the tub, trying to see just how much water the floor can tolerate. This is life right now — sitting on the closed toilet lid, making sure nobody drowns, hoping Rowan doesn’t pee in the water, and telling Lorelei to get her butt out of her brother’s face.

We’ve done all the requisite snow activities, now I need these children to go back to school. Snowmen have been made, snow cream was eaten, snow angels, hot chocolate… you get the idea. Their hands and noses have turned pink with the cold and Rowan has fallen over approximately 2930842930482 times. I ate an entire box of Peanut Butter Patties (anybody local need some Girl Scout cookies? Hit Lorelei up).

I shoveled our driveway 1.5 times, and cleared cars at least three times because I was determined not to be stuck in my house once my street was passable.

I watched the sky light up pink as transformers blew and then the power went out for three hours and Lorelei informed me of the following fact, “You know why I’m bored? Because kids these days, the things we like to do need electricity.”

By Friday, I was so overwhelmingly done with the whole being stuck in the house and listening to kids fight over which show they wanted to watch. If I had to get another child into or out of a snowsuit, I thought I might scream.

I finally got out of the house for some much-needed therapy. My therapist was kind enough to say not to worry if I couldn’t get there, that we could reschedule. I was like, I NEED TO GET THE HELL OUT OF THIS HOUSE RIGHT NOW, I WILL BE THERE IF I HAVE TO WALK TO FUCKING RALEIGH IN THE SNOW UPHILL BOTH WAYS.

In case that doesn’t fully describe my level of desperation, I then took both kids to the movies to see Ferdinand. Let me repeat, I took a seven-year-old and a two-year-old to the movies, by myself. Rowan did surprisingly well, as long as I let him get up and run around the lower level of the theater every once in a while. He was quiet about it, at least. I love that this theater has booster seats for little kids. Back in my day insert old lady voice we just had to be eaten alive by the seats like the good lord intended.

I have exactly 2 hours of vacation time left after this most recent snomaggedonapocalypse of doom.

I took Rowan to the museum and was again reminded how much easier life is when I’ve only got one child. He played for 45 minutes in the little kid indoor play area and I sat and played on my phone like the world’s greatest mother. I DO NOT CARE. We also ate lunch outside without coats, next to piles of snow, because North Carolina.

Several times daily, I think, “I am not cut out to be the mother of two children.” Either of my kids, on their own, feels manageable. But two kids, five years apart, at the same time feels nearly impossible.

Now I’m sitting in the extra room that serves as both my “office” and the room with Rowan’s clothes and changing table. It smells slightly like poop. Life.

Since we’ve gotten rid of the crib, I’ve been able to bring my desk back up into this room, and have turned what Rowan refers to as the “tiny door” into a fairy house. Lorelei was all excited to help me, and I was basically like, you’ve got your own fairy house, stay away from mine. Though she has let me borrow some fairy paraphernalia.

Basically, I need a break. Like, a nice, long break. Creating a fairy house out of my desk is not the break I need. Being stuck at home with my kids for days on end while sucking up my vacation time is not the break I need. I need to get away. Possibly somewhere via plane. I will freely admit to checking the Southwest Airlines sales every week or so, hoping to find the perfect dirt cheap airfare to… somewhere warm and… not here.

Rowan has gotten into the habit of coming into our room nightly. I wouldn’t care if he just slept in the bed between us, but he has to be either on my arm or planking on my chest, and tosses and turns between the two. I’ve been sleeping in an old nursing/pumping bra to keep him from twiddling my nipples. Even so, I never knew I’d have to say, “get your hand out of my shirt please” as much as I do.

I just want some sleep.

Flights to Orlando are only $83 each way.

Anybody in Florida want to have me as a houseguest? Preferably, without kidnapping or murder?

Lorelei is still struggling with school, and we’re at the point where we’re going to have to decide if we want to have her officially evaluated. I’m about 80% sure the answer is yes, but I’m waiting for the results of her most recent reading assessment, which was delayed because of the snow.

This morning, I woke up with a scratchy throat and irritated ears. I’m hoping that it is just from standing outside in the cold at a Girl Scout cookie booth for two hours last night. But, it’s just wishful thinking, I’m sure.

I just bought another box of Girl Scout cookies.

My lunch for this week is ridiculously healthy, but I just ate six girl scout cookies before dinner.

Flights to Ft. Lauderdale are only $84 each way.