I wanted to weep at the thought of a snow day in which we would all four be trapped in the house together, and my grand plans of finishing up some of the work I desperately needed to do went down the hole. The snow did materialize, but Patrick got a text from a friend of his (who I imagine is just like me and prefers her long days of being holed up with kiddos if they come with a friend, extra kids, and some coffee) inviting him and the boys to hang out this morning. Off they went, even though the snow was coming down. Off I went to the office.
This morning, I have finished a revision of an entry for the Oxford Bibliography project, finished a revision of an essay for an edited volume, finished grading exams for my Early American Literature, and now I’m contemplating making some lunch for the family. Oh, the thrill of getting to work at home. Take that Marissa Mayer! But I guess, I did get someone to remove my children so I could work from home. Here’s some irony: the university is closed today (during Spring Break) so staff gets a snow day. Faculty are still working from home. I really don’t want there to be anymore irony: Please baby don’t come today during the snowquester. (I realize I’m being selfish, and my friend is plenty ready to meet her baby, but these are not ideal conditions.)
I’ll take some pictures later when the boys get back and are playing in this heavy, wet snow. It makes gigantic snow balls. Maybe we can make a snowman! (Amazing how I get in a good mood when the revision sword of Damocles is not hanging over my head…)
Yesterday, I had a great day with the boys. We made a pre-Snowquester run to Trader Joe’s, I dropped Seamus at preschool. Gilbert and I went to the library, then home to play and hang out. We picked Seamus up and headed to Old Town for lunch with my friend. We went to a cute little French place where the boys tried a peanut butter and jelly crepe. I had the Zenist with lentils and salad. So good! Gilbert ate almost the whole basked of bread, and Seamus declared crepes, “Trés bien!” We walked from her work to the restaurant–about 8 blocks–and back, stopping at a little park along the way both times. The boys were famished on the way there and super-tired on the way back. I’m going to win Mom of the Year award. Not really. Seamus wanted to try the zip-line at the park, so I hoisted him up. Then he wanted down, so I told him to jump. In any other world, this would have been fine–an 8 inch drop at most–but Seamus would not let go with both hands. He let go with one, and twisted and fell all twisty and weird, and hurt his foot. He seems to have recovered, but jeez, could he be any more like me? Logically, that would have been fine, but now I realize I have to assume there will be a way to make it dangerous.
We got home and the boys were ready to read their library books and go to naptime. It was 3:45 pm. Our neighbor brought her daughter over because they had a gas leak in the house, and I thought the boys would get up to play with her. They didn’t. She was great. I love eight-year-olds. Patrick came home, and still they did not wake up. I went to yoga and came home, and they were still asleep. Seamus had gotten up for a brief dinner and straight back to bed. They slept until 6:45 this morning. Full tummies, empty bladders, and a minor cold had knocked them right on out.
This morning they had first breakfast (yogurt, oats, and cinnamon), second breakfast (scrambled eggs with ketchup), and third breakfast (banana and peanut butter) all before 9:00.