Two days ago, the weather gods dumped a couple feet of snow onto the Boston area. Rightly, schools and businesses were closed and there was a travel bad in effect. The news was calling in the blizzard of 2015, and while I don’t know if conditions around us warranted the blizzard designation there was a lot of snow and plenty of wind to blow it from our facing neighbor’s yard into our driveway.
Remember when a snow day was like the best thing ever? You know, because you’re a kid and you don’t really have any place you actually need to be or anything you actually need to do?
It makes perfect sense that P. was thrilled when the no-school notification made the rounds. Bo was mainly excited that the mister was staying home from work, but same idea. Everyone would be here to watch the blizzard unfold, first in their jammies through the living room window and then bundled into snow pants and North Face jackets and high tech snow boots.
At first, it wasn’t so bad. I offered to do some shoveling early on while the snow was still powdery and light, though also falling heavily through gusty winds. And since I was making a big pile in the front yard anyway, I started putting together a little sled run that was sized just right for P. Then there was a lull in the snowfall and my family came out to join me.
I got in a few turns with the sled (awesome) and then I left my family outside to frolic in the snow because I am a work at home mom.
They played. I stripped off my snow gear and sat down to a typical workday.
Except… I was working in a house where the snow pants and jackets and boots would eventually come to be draped over every surface in the house. Dishes were suddenly everywhere. The living room, which is also my ersatz office, was full of scattered toys. My soundtrack was yet another episode of Thomas & Friends. My choices were stare out the window at my family having fun on my sled run while I focused on my outstanding to-dos or try to work through the chaos and the commotion that was the inevitable result of having them inside with me.
The one saving grace was that the mister was home so at least I could do all the work I had on my plate. You don’t get snow days when your clients and business partners are stationed all over the map. Which is why I nearly burst into tears when the district called to say, rightly, that the next day would be another snow day. There’s me, the work at home mom with two articles due and a status update call with my development team and there are still four pairs of snow pants on the kitchen floor because no one takes me seriously when I bellow, “I work here, damn it!”
Secretly, I’d love to have a snow day as a salaried working mom whose inbox cannot reasonably be accessed from home or as a SAHM. Either way, I’d wake up to the blizzard with the expectation that the most important things on my plate would be snuggling under blankets to watch movies, making snowman marshmallows, and stuffing my kids into the aforementioned snow pants for the five minutes of fresh air they’d actually enjoy before begging to be let back inside.
As it is, if you see me tomorrow I suggest you do not ask me how I enjoyed my snow days. Because the truth is I didn’t. They did.