Thus far, this year has been notable for its snow days. It began with temperatures too low to return from winter break on the 6th and proceeded through the rest of January with cancellations due to snow and ice. February brought no improvement at all, the highlight of which must be the Valentine’s Day cancellation due to a forecast of snow and ice at dismissal time. As it happened, the bad weather and road conditions didn’t arrive until well after dinner time, but forecasting isn’t an exact science and the person making the call was no doubt haunted by images of kids sleeping at school in places like Atlanta.
The first snow day or two of the year is kind of fun. I skipped out on the preschool, Simon had a friend over, and the days were filled with winter diversions and a sense of playing hooky. In contrast, the ninth snow day is a complete drag. There wasn’t any snow to play in, Matt took a half day so I could go to the preschool for a change, and hot cocoa and a trip to the coffee shop had long ago lost its sense of novelty.
There was also a huge amount of crabbiness to contend with. Simon and I are both out of our routines, and we are both suffering from it. On his part, since he’s not an avid reader, artist, or builder, bad weather days are accompanied by way too much television and the ensuing enervated and irritable state excessive television viewing begets. On my part, snow days mean missed days at the preschool, missed plans for my various volunteer jobs, missed housekeeping, missed runs, and missed pilates lessons. That, in turn, begets more screen time in general and more time watching everyone else live their fabulous lives on Facebook in particular. Which all adds up to attitudinal disaster for me: I end up eating from boredom and then feeling gross from over-eating, all the while I go about my day in a state of barely masked hostility.
It’s no good at all. By Friday night, despite going into work and despite Simon and Matt getting me my favorite chocolate and pulling a hilarious and rather delightful prank on me for Valentine’s Day, I still went to bed feeling off. Off enough that I considered telling Matt that perhaps he should keep an eye on me. I’ve never been depressed before, but there’s some family history of it, and I was getting concerned that my mood was clinically out of step with the actual conditions of my life.
Then yesterday (Saturday) happened. Simon had a soccer game at 11:00, immediately followed by a birthday party. There was so little time between the two that we brought lunch and a change of clothes with us to the game. After the drop-off, I gulped down some lunch, did some laundry, and then ran off to my pilates class, where my teacher put me though my paces on my favorite piece of equipment. Tired and sweaty, I ran home just in time to meet up with Matt and Simon, change clothes once more, and dash out for dinner with the Whitworths.
Three hours of eating, chatting, laughing, and ping-pong playing later, Simon collapsed into bed and was asleep before I said goodnight. As for me, I went to bed with a smile on my face, too. Today I am scrambling to clean my house in time to sneak in a run before Simon goes to tennis, after which we’re having friends over for dinner. Truly, I shouldn’t even be taking the time to blog, but I feel so energized that I know I’ll somehow get it all done.
Simon did not get his love of math or sports from me. That is well known. But his love—no, need—to stay busy and get out of the house? That is all me. And for the sake of our joint mental health, I hope Friday’s snow day was the last we’ll see until next winter! I also think I’ll be looking into some spring break sports camps, because right about now the prospect of just hanging out at home for a week doesn’t sound like a vacation at all!