And in New England that wool blanket comes with a generous helping of snow - the joy of every child, the bane of every mother who has to dress each child as if they were about to embark on extended deep sea diving. Dealing with three kids all of whom have differing levels of interest in being out in the cold wet adds a level of challenge to the game that would make any experienced gamer look for cheat codes.
Here's a clip from our "vacation" home movies:
The Kid: SNOW! IT'S SNOWING! Can we go out and play in the snow? PLEASE?
Curly Sue: YEAH! I wanna pay inna snow TOO!
Little Blondie: nooooooo I donwanna go outside!
Me: [sigh] Okay, let's get shoes on - coats, hats, gloves,
LB: NOOOOOOOO I DONWANNA GO OUTSIDE
Me: fine! You don't have to, just stop screaming!
Kid: I can't find my hat
Me: did you try picking something up and looking underneath?
Kid: I CAAANNNNN'T FIIIIIIINNND IT
Me: it's right HERE!
CS: I'm ready!
Me: no, you need shoes and gloves
LB: where MY shoes??
Me: I thought you weren't coming out with us?
Me: [deep breath] okay, fine, that's great, let's get your shoes on too
Ten minutes later we get outside.
Two minutes later someone is screaming to come back in.
Throw in the fact that Husband's company shuts down between Christmas and The New Year and you are staring into an abyss of work and frustration the likes of which would make The Pit of Despair look more like a vacation every day. You might as well build a weekend home in the Fire Swamp and start training the ROUSs to fetch your slippers.
Trying to get out of the house with the kids to do something is one thing, but when I have to plan around the twins 1:30 pm nap time, and can't get out of the house in the morning because we are waiting for Hubs to finish "percolating," then it is an entirely new level of frustration. Then he comes up with genius ideas like, "Why don't you run around Dicks Sporting Goods with the girls while I buy an Olympic Bench Weight Set?"
Riiiight. Cause there is no way in the world the 3 Tornadoes would get hurt at Dicks. What's that you say? It will only take "a few minutes" for you to complete the transaction? You promise? Cause if you really, really promise, then I guess it will be okay.
The man has the worst sense of direction of anyone I've met. A year after we moved here he needed the GPS device to find the grocery store that is a mile down the road. ON the same main road that our street meets. No confusing turns, no hidden driveways, just one mile down the road on the right.
He asked me one time where the place was to get the oil changed in his car. It's on his way to work. He passes it twice a day every day for over a year and he still wanted a landmark as to where it was. "How 'bout the big, giant sign that says Valvoline?"
So when he faces a 13 mile drive (on the same road as the grocery store) he hems and haws and comes up with ten different scenarios for how he can either get me to do it for him, or drag me along with him - which of course means taking the girls, or paying a babysitter $15/hour to watch them. (Have I mentioned he also doesn't like to spend money?)
[as I type this, the girls are whining about wanting to go outside and play in the snow. are they reading over my shoulder??]
Here we are with today, plus 3 more days of family togetherness to get through, and I'm scouring the internet for tips on how to survive Christmas vacation. Frankly most of them sound a lot like "more work for mommy" cleverly disguised as "sanity savers." I'm not buying it. Anything that involves baking with toddlers, glitter, or going outside goes on my not-ty list.
(get it? not-ty = naughty? yeah, that's what all this togetherness has brought me to)
So there has been a lot of coloring, a lot of painting with water, a few trips out to see pretty Christmas lights, a few heart attacks for mommy, wine, and a partridge in a pear tree.
|Now THIS is a holiday wine I have to try!|