Chris and Miss

Snow Day

I had intended to write a blog on the adventures of being home, with the kids, on their first snow day of the year- although when one snow day turned into two, and two into three- I changed my direction a bit. Rather than a wow we have a day off of school, in the middle of the week expose, it became a sometimes things don’t always work out as out as planned, piece.

We live in an area that becomes almost paralyzed at the mere thought of snow. The news stations go literally bonkers- broadcasting weather reports every few minutes, schools close, and people abandon their cars along interstates that are compact snow and ice covered. Traffic is excruciating, because some believe they are immune to the dangers of black ice, while others feel it is necessary to drive ten miles per hour, with chains on their tires, when large snowflake start to circulate through the air. It is a complete and utter panic that spreads through the region like wildfire, on a dry mountaintop. Usually this freakout is unfounded and annoying, not warranting the overreaction of snow, at sea level (the mountain passes are a different story). This storm warning, however, was not an overreaction. It became exactly what was predicted- keeping my family homebound for three days, giving us all a strong case of cabin fever, and an opportunity to spend quality time with one another. As my oldest would attest, quality time is good, but man- it can get really boring, when you are stuck in one place.

It all started on a Wednesday morning.  I checked the school district website and found that all schools were closed.  I told the kids and watched them jump up and down, in excitement.  By that afternoon, the snow had turned to slush and we were able to make a grocery store and Starbuck’s run.  Madison began begging that school not be canceled on Thursday, because her class was scheduled to have a Polar Express day, complete with an extended reading time and pancake breakfast.  I informed her that the weather reports were forecasting more snow, and we’d see what the district decides.   She gave me a stricken look and said, “Mom I have to go to school, it can’t snow.”  She proceeded to whine about it for another hour until I turned to her and said, “Maddie, do you honestly think that I have any control over the weather- or the school district, for that matter?”  She began to laugh, “Of course Mom, you can control the weather.”  I emailed Chris, and he joked that at one time, Mothers did control weather patterns, but in the last several years, our abilities have been stunted.  He blames global warming.

So Thursday, school was cancelled again.  We had a few inches, at this point, and it was severely cold.  Not the type of weather that you want to bundle your kids up in and go out and make snow angels- it was hard and crunchy and not a Winter Wonderland, in any sense of the word.  Maddie was severly disappointed that she didn’t have school, Peyton continued jumping up and down for joy.  Friday was the same, more snow and ice- schools canceled.  Welcome to Winter Break, kiddos.  You are officially off of school- until January 5.  The roads were slick, but we were in need of groceries and I was needing a break from the house.  So we ventured out, in our minivan, to the closest grocery store, Walmart.  Now I’ll admit, shopping at Walmart, on any given day, nearly gives me an ulcer.  It is always crowded, and I can feel my back tense up the minute I walk through the sliding doors and the nice senior citizen hands my kids those yellow happy face stickers.  This day was no exception…Apparently, everyone else in the city had the exact same idea as myself- grab some groceries before the next storm hits, along with last-minute Christmas gifts.  It was like, every man for himself.  Carts were everywhere, my kids were grabbing snacks off of the shelves and throwing them into our cart, while I continued my mission for holiday baking essentials.  We could have been on Supermarket Sweep- we were swift, I was agitated, and Allison tried to climb out of the cart at least twenty times.  Finally we made it to the check stand and promptly waited in line, for thirty minutes.  Fun times, I kept telling myself.  Just some quality time with the kids…

Round two of the snow hit that evening.  Several inches fell, leaving the streets a mess and making it impossible to drive anywhere, for three days.  I baked, I cleaned, I shoveled, I worked out.  The kids did art projects, we watched movies together, we read books, we played games, we made gingerbread houses and Christmas cookies and banana bread.  I helped them build a tent, we played in the snow, and walked the dog as far as she would allow us to.  It is the most amount of time we have spent together, without driving anywhere.  In all honesty, they were three of the longest days of my life.  Yet, looking back I realize that it was the first time, in a while, that we have slowed down enough to really enjoy being together.  We didn’t have to worry about school, homework, Faith Formation classes,  Choir, gymnastics, shopping, mindless errands, or going to the library.  We just changed our plans and went with it.  Each morning, as we woke up to more snow, I just sighed and crossed what I thought we’d be doing off of the calendar, and impovised. 

The day before Christmas Eve, I decided to chance it and try to drive up the hills and into the valley for Maddie and Peyton’s Christmas Eve Choir rehearsal.  We arrived at the Church to find the parking lot covered in snow and the walks being shoveled.  The entire Choir showed up, as well as, volunteers thoughout the parish to prepare the church for Mass.  It was the first time that most of us had been able to leave our homes in three days.  One of my friends said to me, “I don’t care if it starts snowing again, just after Mass.  I really want to go to Christmas Eve Mass to see the kids sing.”  And the next day, we did.  I sat in the Pew, entertaining Allison, while Maddie and Peyton sang at the Christmas Eve Mass.  The Church wasn’t crowded, as most holidays are.  I’m guessing all of the Christmas/Easter mass goers decided to skip it this year.  It was nice though, a beautiful start to Christmas.

The snow certainly changed our plans for the month.  My Dad was unable to drive over from Montana to visit, the kids teacher’s presents are still nestled in their backpacks, and we didn’t make it out to see the holiday Fantasy Lights display.  But for many reasons, I will never forget this Christmas, and the extra cuddle time I spent with my children.  On Christmas I missed my husband, and wishes so badly that he was able to be here, rather than in Iraq.  I missed how excited he gets watching the kids open their presents, and wondered if he would be monopolizing their DS’s, because he is a video game fanatic.  I couldn’t help laughing, while witnessing, Allison’s excitement that Santa left her an Elmo, and I cried realizing that he missed seeing it.  Maybe this Christmas is how it was intended to be…just the kids and I spending time together and praying that next year he will be here to celebrate with us.  Snow or no snow, to Iraq and back- family is forever, and that is what is really important.

A Tree for All Seasons

Each year, we take our tree out of a box, string up the lights, and decorate.  I know that sounds so boring compared to going out to the woods, or a tree farm, and picking a fresh pine.  After soaking in the wonderful tree smell, we would let it settle in the house overnight- before trimming the top- so that it wouldn’t scrape the ceiling of our the living room.  Then there is the custom of putting the side of the tree which is slightly bare of branches, facing a wall, so that the neighbors don’t see that the tree isn’t absolutely perfect. 

Yes, these are the things I experienced as a child, when my parents put up our Christmas tree.  It wasn’t until years later that I was diagnosed with asthma, broke a vacuum from cleaning up pine needles, and realized that sometimes it is easier not to have to remember to put water in the tree stand.  I often wonder if my children will think it is natural that a Christmas tree comes out of a box- that is stored in the garage- on Thanksgiving weekend.  Maybe one day, we will go on a Christmas-tree-finding-expedition, in the woods, to find that perfect Douglas Fir.  But for now, the boxed one works just fine for me.

I love Christmas, always have.  My favorite children’s book is, The Polar Express- I find so much magic in the theory that only those who truly believe can hear the ringing of Santa’s sleigh bell.  I believe in the magic of Christmas, and each year, I find myself looking forward to the season like a little kid.  I will admit, I can do without the shopping.  I’ve never been much for indulgence and I would rather just have my family all together, and healthy, than receiving mass amounts of presents.  But, I am a mom, and it is part of my job to make the Christmas season magical for my children.  And magic for a child, usually involves wrapped presents, underneath a Christmas tree.  They, of course, have been counting the days until Christmas Eve for the past two months.  They take their presents out from under the tree each morning and stack them up into individual piles, before asking me if they can open one- “just one Mom…please?”  It is a game of ours, they ask and I say no.

Our tree is like an Ode to Christmas’ past.  For as long as I can remember, I have been receiving a new ornament each Christmas, to hang on our tree.  I continued this tradition with my own family, when Chris and I were married.  In fact, our first ornament together was of a bride and groom- so typical, I know.  Each year on the Feast of Saint Nicholas, our children receive a brand new ornament, that they can display on the tree and then save for when they are adults and have a tree of their own.  Sure, we have our fair share of Elmo ornaments, and Star Wars characters, and Dora the Explorer; but we also have sentimental ones that I cherish each time I take them out of the box.  Like, the glass pink baby bootie in honor of our child, Kaileen, who is in heaven; and our musical Leprechaun ornament that sings, “When Irish Eyes are Smiling.”  Those ornaments are there to remind us of the good and bad times, as well as, the people who were there with us along the journey.

Yes, I believe that Christmas is magical.  Like my children, Madison, Peyton and Allison, I look forward to its arrival.  I am hopeful that the coming year will bring health, happiness, and wonderful surprises to us all.  I look forward to Chris coming home, so that we are able to decorate that lovely artificial tree, which is currently slightly crooked, with him next Christmas.  I write this with the hope that the coming year will bring peace to each of us.