Posted by: Ingrid | March 12, 2014

From Atlas to Zoloft

I am firmly convinced that any of us stuck in the Winter-that-will-not-end of 2014 should be given complimentary antidepressants or an endless supply of chocolate.  At the very least we should receive a t-shirt that denotes we survived the winter (provided that there is, indeed, an end).  Or perhaps we should just put all that money into fixing the absurd number of potholes on every. single. road.

Two days ago I ran outside in the morning (this is not unusual, even during this abysmal winter).  But I ran outside wearing running tights, normal socks, and light gloves as opposed to the heavy duty cold weather wear that I have been pulling on since November.  It was 37 degrees.  You could smell spring in the air.  I almost cried for the sheer joy of the possibility that the seasons might change.

That afternoon we went outside, all four of us, for an hour long walk which ended in an additional load of laundry, thanks to the mud and the massive puddles that my children were drawn to like magnets.

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It was 47 degrees.  47!  Sheer bliss.  Even Liliana was able to hang out with us comfortably.


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And then along came winter storm Vulcan, hitting us in our sleep when we were dreaming of warm days and clear roads.  Another day of schools closed, cold temperatures, too much snow, and blustery winds.  All the friendly pavement and ridiculous potholes that were exposed have been covered up by who knows how many inches of snow.

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And with the wind chill tomorrow it is supposed to be -16.

The schools closed again.  Even though Isaac goes to preschool only three days a week and we have had far too many snow days we survived yet another day, thanks to homemade kettle corn, jumping off furniture into pillow piles, and songs like this from a fabulous cd by Sandra Boyton entitled  Blue Moo.  I have to say that when your children seem bent on annoying one another endlessly and you cannot escape your home it is much more fun to play silly music and dance around rather than to threaten to throw them out in the snow.

Though as an introvert, the “out in the snow” idea has merit.  It is one of those days I don’t get to be alone.  Ever.  Not even during nap time.  Twelve hours is a long time to spend with small always-needing-something humans.

If my children weren’t already alphabet savvy, this would have been the winter to write a witty children’s book entitled “From Atlas to Zoloft”.  Apparently our major storms have been named off a list that a Latin class put together.  And we are on V (V is for Vulcan – god of fire!).  And it is only March 12.  Learn all your ABC’s, Greek mythology, and a smattering of Latin all in one!

I am still of the opinion that naming storms is like feeding stray cats.  If we just ignored them, perhaps they would go away and the snow would melt.

In the meantime, I am thankful we have a working heater and you will find me baking cookies and rocking out to Your Nose as the snow continues to fly.

Spring, come soon!

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Responses

  1. Yesterday was a really bad day (tire blow-out, dr. appointment, no meals or shower for mom), and when I couldn’t find my car keys this morning, I cried. For 45 minutes. While tearing the house apart looking for them. Crying and messing up the house at the same time. And the baby screamed the whole time. And my son kept saying “I’m sorry mommy. I’m sorry.”

    I just really, really needed my extrovert son to go to school today. I feel your pain.

    What I didn’t realize before I became a parents is that there is not point in being dramatic about anything. You can throw yourself down on the bed and sob and give up and declare you can’t go on, but once you’ve had your meltdown/given up/reached rock-bottom, it’s not like it’s over and you don’t have to do it anymore. After you’re done with your meltdown, you have to get up and make peanut butter sandwiches and give everyone baths and keep the kids from killing each other. You can have a meltdown every day, and still things go on.

    I’m pretty sure this is reforming my character into something stronger? And since you have three, your are currently being transformed into adamantine supermom?? :)

    • I have to say, I always love hearing how crazy other people’s lives with children are because it makes me feel less insane. Thank you. And I think that may be my new motto: I am adamantine supermom. Repeat ten billion times, or as needed.


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