Noooooooooooo!

At least two inches tonight.

I've never wished so hard for rain.

Note to white frozen stuff falling from the sky:

You are no longer welcome here. On my mat or anyone else's. We need a break. We need school. We need our routines back.

Trying to overcome my grinchiness

I am trying to be "one with the snow." To not be so grouchy. To focus on the family together time and the beautiful snowy world outside instead of the trapped feeling, the missed work, and the way my kids have morphed into the most annoying children ever.

But I'm struggling. I just want it to stop. I know we're lucky because we haven't lost power, because we are warm and safe and dry. I'm lucky because I have Pat home on vacation too, and am not stuck home by myself with abovementioned children.

Some lovely footage shot this morning...

The view out the front door. Right out the door, under the covered porch.

Walkway? What walkway?

The area formerly known as a driveway, and way in the distance, frozen lumps formerly known as the garbage cans.

A snowy day in the forest... I mean, my front yard

Our covered patio. And by covered, I mean covered in SNOW

Sandbox, you say? Where? (see the lump?)

Crazy boys, including one wonderful, dedicated father who braved the 15-degree evening for some snow baseball

In the words of my sister from Pittsburgh to the cities in and around Seattle:

"It's called salt, people. Use it." I do not understand why we can't salt and plow better for just a few weeks. For the sanity of everyone involved.

Blech.

I'll admit it. I'm a Snow Grouch.

I just don't like the snow.

It's not the snow itself, it's the disruption in my schedule, the being cold, and the trapped grouchy feeling. And this time, it's the fact that we already had snow and it's super cold and it's not going away anytime soon. I don't live in the Midwest for a reason.

I wish I loved it. I wish I felt peaceful and happy and could just curl up on the couch with a book and a blanket and some tea.

But I have kids. Kids who are just as sensitive as their mama to disruptions in their schedule. One kid who likes the idea of the snow, but who plays in the snow for less time than it takes to get her ready for going out in the snow.

And another kid who loves to play in the snow, go sledding, and never gets cold. Except he's bitter that the snow ruined his post-birthday dinner with his cousins.

At least someone is enjoying himself.

Until June, that is--when he has to make up the 3 snow days.

2190 days=72 months=6 years old

To our 6 year old boy,

I really can't believe it. Six.
Maybe it's because it sounds like SIXTEEN, maybe it's the kindergarten thing, or just that you are so long and tall and grown-up these days.

Every year at this time, I find myself wanting to hold you and snuggle more than usual. When the Christmas decorations come out, and we pull out the Christmas tree snow globe that I got from Grandma and Papa while in the hospital with you, I can remember it all.


That crazy pre-Christmas of 2002, where nothing else really mattered and we got to bring home our best present ever on Christmas Day. That little tiny present who peed through a million outfits that first night, who squeaked and squealed and slept every minute you weren't eating for several weeks. Who we kept sequestered for months, avoiding the germs of flu season and other kids.

Today Daddy was talking to you about the day you were born, and I cried remembering that time between 3:30 pm and 6:00 pm when he was up in the NICU with you before I was cleared to go up and visit you. Those hours I didn't realize I had missed, and that don't really matter now, but they still make me cry thinking about it. And we realized how thankful we were--again--that your sister arrived on time, so that you didn't have to wait 11 days to see her, since they don't allow kids in the NICU.

You, thankfully, have had no problems related to your early arrival. Except the fact that your birthday falls eleven days before Christmas. And it's always crazy busy during that time, we have to schedule around holiday parties and the toy stores are sold out. You are tall and smart and healthy and funny--I think I called you a "delightful tornado" one year. You're still delightful, still a tornado.

Since your 5th birthday, you have played on your first t-ball team, broken your arm, gotten four stitches in your eyebrow (a week after your cast came off), played on your first soccer team, and started kindergarten. It's been a big year. You're this close to reading on your own, and I expect it will click any day. You know all the letters and sounds, but the part of actually sitting still long enough to carefully grip your pencil and focus on forming your letters is usually more than you're willing to tolerate for long. You tend to rush through things so you can be the first one done, the first one to do whatever comes next. You have a brain for numbers, like your Daddy, and can add and subtract numbers in your head, love to count everything, and enjoy number games. We even made an equation cake, with 3 + 3 = 6. Ok, so it was because we didn't have a #6 candle, but you still loved it.



School has been an easier transition than we expected, although I wouldn't call it easy. You are still exhausted from all-day kindergarten, but you have an amazing teacher and have made lots of new friends. You are happy at the new school, and we love being five minutes away. Knowing a few kids from soccer definitely helped your comfort level, and you know lots of kids from your class and older kids from recess and class buddies.

We're just experiencing what we've come to expect as the "annual wave of obnoxious" right before your birthday, so we have high hopes for January. Something about holidays and birthday all rolled into one season is a lot for anyone.

Your birthday party was waaaaaay too big and a bit overwhelming, especially for you. I know it's over and you had fun in the end, but I still feel responsible, like I should have predicted it. But I hope you felt celebrated. And by the way, we'll never do that again. Ever.

It may not snow for Christmas, but you had a white birthday. Two inches of snow.. not enough for sledding or snowmen, but enough for a pathetic Northwest snow angel-where-you-can-see-the-deck-poking-through or two..


Wheeeee! It's my birthday!


Angel #1



Angel #2

T-ball, anyone?

Well, at least we don't have to stand out in the rain for t-ball practice tomorrow morning...
Thanks to some freaky weather pattern and our lovely choice of home in the famous "Convergent Zone," we are seeing this tonight...






Pat thinks it's more than mere coincidence that we have the latest spring snow in 36 years on the same day that the NBA voted to let the Sonics leave town. He thinks Mother Nature is mad. And maybe God too.

Snow was only the end of a day of hail, rain, freezing rain, slushy rain, and icy rain. Just makes you want to break out the summer clothes.