Tomorrow is day three of being stranded at home.
Unless you’re living under a rock, the South got slapped with a nasty winter storm. It’s chaos here. Measuring just over 7 inches of white fluff at our house with a sleek layer of ice on top from hours of sleet Monday, it’s a beautiful disaster. At least we have power… that is most certainly something to be grateful for!
The South is unprepared for these storms. Exceedingly unprepared. Even this Northern born and bred girl is unwilling to head out. Partly because nothing is open, but because I’m a bit more afraid of the other people driving who are unfamiliar with driving in these conditions. It’s rather frightening. Plows, salt and sand are rare and thus far I’ve only seen them on TV.
Hours spent outside playing are diminishing, the lure of the snow is being lost and even the concept of missing school for a snow day is losing its appeal since we can’t go anywhere to “adventure”.
I admit I’m thrilled to be spared from a 6 am alarm for a third day and while I’m giddy that I again will escape the morning chaos, the appeal of hanging in our PJ’s, stranded in our house and yard is quickly loosing its luster.
I’ve been perpetuating a lie every night that I don’t know if school’s been cancelled. “Sorry boys, I haven’t heard yet!” Of course I already have confirmation each day that school is cancelled the next day, but I send the boys off to bed on our school night schedule “just in case”! I don’t even feel guilty lying! Mental mommy survival I suppose.
I started to get hopeful this afternoon that the roads were improving, but those hopes were quickly dashed. As I heard a fire truck approaching with lights and sirens blasting, it finally passed with an ambulance close behind. Cruising at a breathtaking crawl, all hope was lost. Damn.
There’s been no mail or paper delivery and I’m pretty sure trash pick up is a no go too. I hope it is a no go because I’m not sure I can drag it down my driveway over all the snow and ice without it spilling out everywhere. The thought of that disaster is more than I can handle so we’ll go with the no go approach.
The rate at which these boys inhale food is epic. EPIC! They’re never full and their tanks are always on empty. I’ve been rationing eggs and we’re down to one. I think it might come down to some sort of competition in the morning on who gets the lone organic egg. Either way, I guarantee tears will fall and a fit will be had while another snickers in achievement. In all likelihood I’ll probably be the one crying, but we’ll each be honing our negotiating skills for sure. Call it a home school activity for the day.
While I haven’t showered since Sunday, I know I’m not alone in my personal squalor. I know most of my fellow stranded mommy friends have taken the same oath to live and exist in dirty survival mode. However, I think it may be advantageous of me to shower by tomorrow. Not simply because I’m at my breaking point of personal filth, but I think I should at least appear to play the part of put together, responsible mommy if I have to call 911 when one of my boys has an accident sledding down our hill, falling on ice or who knows what. Or… gasp… If I need the help for falling off said sled, slipping on ice trying to play football or simply doing something stupid! It’s been known to happen.
I’ll be damned if after days stuck at home, stranded with a dwindling food supply, arguing boys and fewer and fewer things to clean, organize or relocate in the house, I’m still wearing the same yoga pants, sweatshirt, red slippers and generally looking like a train wreck when the boys from the Firehouse need to be called.
Happy Snowmageddon from the stir crazy South! Watch out my Northern friends… it’s headed your way tonight.