Long Hairs and Snow Days

Long Hairs and Snow Days

The other day I found a hair.  A long one.  On my knee.  At first I thought it was just a hair from my head that stuck to my leg in the shower. Nope, that thing was attached.    Be aware that when I say a long one, I mean that sucker could have been braided if only it would have had friends close by.  This one hair made my mind start to wonder; How in the hell does one miss the same hair for months?  How?  The same reason I can’t take a good poop without having to stop halfway through.  The same reason my hair needs to be colored, but isn’t. The same reason my house looks like a colony of monkeys live here.  Because I have kids and they’ve been home for days, that’s why.

I have been trapped in a snowy hell for days.  DAYS.  I am sure that somewhere around here I have some funny lying around, but in all honesty I think my kids have sucked that well dry, kind of like my boobs.  I can’t possibly stomach another game of Guess Who or another episode of Dinosaur Train.  I also cannot bear to listen to myself tell my kids to stop fighting with each other.  To keep their hands to themselves.  To say excuse me when they rip a big burp or gag me with a fart.  These unexpected long breaks are painful.  So much so that the government could use it as a form of torture.  You want someone to talk, lock them in a house with young children for days with minimal provisions.  They would break in a matter of hours.  It is so different from a scheduled break because of the lack of preparation time, the scramble to stock up on “provisions”, or maybe it is just the fact that there is. no. escape.

The first day, everyone is so excited.  HEY LOOK!  SNOW!  Get out the gloves/boots/hats/scarves/five-hundred pairs of pants, and listen to the squeals of delight.  It fills your heart with rainbows and unicorns  and you are so glad that they got a few extra hours to play in it.  You don’t mind the piles of wet gloves and the constant requests for hot chocolate.

Snow

Until that first snowball is thrown.

Day two brings constant snowfall.  Trapped.  Here is where things go downhill, and quickly.  See if any of this sounds familiar:

  • MOM!  He took my blanket!
  • MOOOOOOMMMMMM, she farted on me!
  • But MOOOOOMMMMM, I don’t WANT to watch that!
  • But MOM!  He touched me!
  • Can we have a snack?  I’m still hungry, can I have something else to eat?  I’m HONGRY MOM!
  • Mom, can we go outside?  <10 minutes later>  Man! It’s cold outside,  we are coming in!
  • Hey PITA, put down that frozen milk jug and put some clothes on before you freeze your wiener off! (What?  You’ve never said that?)

One would think that living in the middle of Kansas in the winter that I would be better prepared for such occurrences.  Well, one would be wrong.  I don’t keep a file of lesson plans for snowy days.  I don’t keep a well-stocked craft closet.  I suppose that would be because I don’t enjoy “crafting”, but it is mainly because the thought of giving young kids scissors and glue gives me heart palpitations.  ”Hey MOM, look at my pretty new haircut!”  .  ”Hey Mom, why do they call it a HOT glue gun?  AHHHHHHHHHH MY EYE!!!!!”    ”Don’t you love our new wallpaper mom?  I used all the colors that you love!”

I’m not afraid to be honest with you all.  The wine helps.  I’m not talking about dousing myself in it every night, just a glass or two (some days three).  It doesn’t make me a bad mom nor does it make me an alcoholic.  It makes me real.  For some it may not be wine, it may be food or pharmaceuticals or vodka or a nice hot bath mixed with wine and cookies or running away to Mexico to enjoy sunshine and drinks served by a handsome cabana boy by the pool.  Sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do to help you relax at the end of the day.  It doesn’t make us bad parents to enjoy a glass of wine or a couple of cookies or a nice hot bath. Running away to Mexico, maybe, but only if you never return.

I don’t really know where the long knee hair and snow days are connected, hell I don’t really know where I was going with this entire post, but I do know that sometimes we screw up and we miss things.  Things that we may look back on and laugh about later, but also some things that we don’t want to look back on and be sad that we overlooked.  We bitch and moan about having our kids home for extended periods of time.  In all reality though, somewhere deep down (WAAAAY deep down) we enjoy these moments.  While at the time we don’t enjoy the puddles of melted snow in the dining room and the endless games of tag in the house.  We cuss under our breath about the extra loads of laundry and the constant requests to play on some sort of electronic device while munching on handfuls of popcorn. We know that these moments are passing ever so quickly.  That we should treasure them.  That we should enjoy them.  That someday we will miss them.  For now though we will laugh at our long hairs, poop when we can, and enjoy that glass of wine while watching our kids play in the cold.  While working on our passports from the window.

 

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Comments

comments

Comments

  1. you are so stinkin funny I can’t stand it. Man, you got skills, girl. Love your guts and your funny. Now, that leg hair? come here. YANK.

  2. Good Lawd, snow days are going to be the death of me!
    I found a crazed, long hair where my once tame eyebrow used to be!
    HouseTalkN recently posted…Favorite Oscar MomentsMy Profile

  3. Mature Canadian says:

    We are the same people you and I. Wine is the only cure even though temporary to a snow day or snow week. I am so glad you stocked up for this annual winter event. Run out of food, but never run out of wine.

    We have wimpy bus companies here that cancel buses if there is the slightest bit of moisture in the air. This is much worse because then you have to drive the little darlings to school where the teachers are so “pleased” to see you that they immediately fail your offspring in whatever course they teach. You also have to arrive late at work and leave early or sneak out for an hour while you do the round trip and dump the kids at home with dire threats and rush back to work until release time. Upon arriving home you always find new bruises and no cookies or cereal, because everybody was hungry don’t you know? And every glass and plate in the house dirty and in the damn sink because everyone knows that it is just sooooo hard to put dishes in the dishwasher.

    Regarding mystery hairs, the leg is a much better choice than the 2 foot long one that appears magically on your chin in the morning when the darn thing wasn’t there when you went to bed! I love your posts and you have all my sympathy. Put on a video and make the kids watch Johnnie in “Chocolat” with no talking or they will be sent to bed. Oh, and pour a large glass of wine.

  4. This post further reinforces why I’m glad to have left the snowy midwest behind to start a family. I know you and Johnny will take care of each other when the going gets rough.

    And speaking of rough, I also hate missing a stray hair (or patch of ‘em) when shaving, but for men, it’s often worse as it’s exposed for the world to see all day. In many cases, if a women doesn’t shave, or misses a spot, no one knows.
    Jay – The Dude of the House recently posted…Oscar Who?My Profile

  5. I don’t think you’ve lost your funny. You made me giggle. Have a glass of wine for me. I’m always too tired to have one when I get home after my daughter’s swim practice.
    Chrystal recently posted…Grass in WinterMy Profile

  6. I think the bottom line here is that freakishly long leg hairs and being snowed in somewhere in Kansas is enough to make anyone weep …I know all too well about both. Hurry up, spring.
    Paige Kellerman recently posted…And Now, An Exclusive Interview With Sundance KellermanMy Profile

  7. I’ll pull that knee hair if you pull my rogue chin hair? No?? I do not envy the amount of time youve been locked in chaos. I would need a number of nice dry red “provisions” to get through such things. Especially the whole “can we go hump the snow” bit that lasts long enough to soak their socks and create a whole new load of laundry for you. Love you, momma…and yes, some day we will look back on these moments fondly. We will…right???

    • Sweet Jesus I hope so, and I hope we are laughing about it. Love you as well and I am dying at “can we go hump the snow”. Mainly because I’m pretty sure I witnessed it.

  8. I don’t think you miss it week after week, and here’s why I know….. I have these hairs that appear on my chin already long! I know it sounds unlikely, but I swear, I’d notice a 1/2 long black hair on my chin slowly growing over days and weeks. Nope, in the morning it’s not there, I go to work and use the bathroom and suddenly one is there, ripe for the plucking. Your knee hair must be related in some way.
    Robin Jingjit recently posted…10 things I’ll never buy at Tops SupermarketMy Profile

  9. Such a great post! We were crying with laughter at the crafting part…that is so totally how we feel about it, too!!-The Dose Girls
    thedoseofreality recently posted…Nope, It’s Still MeMy Profile

  10. I was feeling slightly frustrated this weekend that the 15 year old resorted to living with the ps3 in the basement while the 12 year old camped out with the ipad on the couch…the feeling subsided a bit when I was able to lounge on the couch reading a book. After reading your post though, I do admit to missing the trail of toys that signified that a good time was had by almost all!

  11. I loved this. As I sit here, ever so slightly before 5, with my glass of wine and the rough-housing nonsense in the other room and flurries of snow outside with leg hair so long I may as well be moving backwards in evolution (devolution?), this was the perfect piece to read.
    Bethany @ Bad Parenting Moments recently posted…BirthMy Profile

  12. The glue gun killed me. I hate crafting. So funny!
    Wendy recently posted…Random Acts of KindnessMy Profile

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  1. [...]  Maybe we were busy writing a piece for a book and didn’t spend the afternoon giving our kids scissors and glue guns. It doesn’t mean we love them any less or that we wish that they didn’t exist, it just [...]

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