Why Snow Days Are Like Being In Prison When You're A Parent

Yesterday's "double iPad" lunch notwithstanding, I'm a good mom, I swear.

Fifteen minutes of getting him into this outfit for two minutes of playing in the snow.

We took a field trip to Dunkin' Donuts. I was desperate.

Learning numbers, animals, and shapes with puzzles. (a.k.a. evidence that not everything we did today had sugar or a screen.)

I remember when the words "snow day" would elicit joy. As a kid, I was elated every time a blizzard rendered the roads impassable and the schools closed. Even as a single girl, snow days were amazing. I'd stay inside, pig out, and watch movies on the couch. Maybe a friend would come over, maybe I'd just relax by myself. There were naps involved. Snow days were heaven.

Yes, "were" as in past tense. These days? Snow days are hell.

I was reminded of this yesterday. We got about eight inches in NJ (slightly more in the city), which was far less than the "historic" accumulation they were predicting. But truth be told, I would have preferred a record breaker. Eight inches, you see, turned out to be the exact wrong amount. It was just enough that my office closed, the subways were effed up, and my nanny couldn't make it in, but not so much that my husband couldn't make it in to work.

So, you know what that means: I was home with my kids alone. Remember last time I was home all day with them by myself? Yeah, it was a bit of a shitshow. Well, at least that time I had my daughter in school part of the day and decent weather. But snow days are different.

When you're a parent, snow days are kind of like being in prison. (I mean, a prison where you love your cellmates more than anything in the world, of course. But still--prison.) Think about it: You're stuck inside. You can't go outside except maybe for an hour a day, if you're lucky. You don't have a moment to yourself. You don't have privacy when you go to the bathroom. Everyone's bored and in a bad mood. And everyone's yelling at you and telling you what to do all the time.

Yesterday was tough, man. It was a lot of iPad watching, a lot of puzzles and books, a lot of junk food, and about fifteen minutes of getting suited up in snow pants, coats, and mittens only to go outside to play for about two minutes. And that was just the first two hours!

Did I mention our cable was down? Yeah. Thanks, universe. Even in prison, they have cable.

Around 4pm, there was major cabin fever happening--and I had the worst case of it. I was also craving a latte like nobody's business, so I made the executive decision to take the kids out for a field trip. To Dunkin' Donuts. 

My daughter refused to get out of her pajamas, so I threw a coat and boots over her nightgown and pj pants, stuck my son who is too big for the Ergo into the Ergo, and headed out. We trudged to Dunkin' Donuts only to find out that it was closed. (WTF?) So, after a quick photo op (above), we continued the excursion for a few blocks where we hit up 7 Eleven and Starbucks. I was desperate, people. 

We headed home, made dinner, watched a little more iPad (natch), and then DADDY CAME HOME. I have never been so excited to see my husband. My sentence was officially over. Free at last!

I handed my sweet little inmates over, ordered a pizza (Paleo, be damned--this day called for serious carbs), relaxed on the couch with a little Internet time, and then laid down for some blessed sleep.

Today, life returns to normal. My daughter is back in school, my son's classes are back on, and I'm back in the office. I'm even wearing a dress! That doesn't have Play-Doh on it! And, seriously, I've never been so freaking excited.

So, if I can leave you with one lesson, let it be this: If you see a mom today, do not ask her how her "day off" was. You've been warned.