There is something mystical in a snow day. It is almost like a time warp. You have been gifted a day of freedom. You never know when it will happen, therefore, you have no plans to do housework, or go shopping, or whatever chores are usually assigned to weekend days. The kids were supposed to be at daycare or school, and you were supposed to be at work. Therefore, you feel no guilt for accomplishing nothing. The day comes and goes, as if it never happened. But it did. And it was amazing.
Whether you choose to spend your snow day snuggled up warm inside, with the heat cranked an extra degree, drinking coffee, tea, or hot cocoa and reading a book, doing a puzzle or choose to go out and play in the abundance of freshly fallen, untouched, beautiful snow is completely up to you. In fact, if you play your cards right, there is time for both!
I remember 2 snow days as a child. One where my little sister and I bundled up in no less than 6 layers, including a Blazer swimming parka for her and an MU Starter Jacket for me, as the top layer and trekked from 52nd street to 63rd street to eat at Jalapenos and shop in the Brookside shopping center. The other, where I got snowed in at my grandma Giblin's after morning swim practice at Longview. I got to stay with her for 3 days. During this time I finished at least one 1000 piece puzzle, and watched many a movie, while bonding with my grandmother. With 4 siblings and nearly 20 cousins, one on one time with Grandma was and still is, a rarity. I do not harbor many memories of pure relaxation, but that is one of them.
Though Brock may not remember this snow day, he did participated in its mysticism. I had both boys packed and dressed for the trudge to the car when I received word that I did not need to come in to work. Choosing to take advantage of a sleeping baby and an already bundled toddler, I took Brock out to explore the wonders provided by 4-6 inches of snow. He began by helping me shovel the driveway, was quickly distracted by a stick, and finished with an abundance of winter like activities: sidewalk chalk, sand shovel kit and a water gun? Guess it's obvious by the toy purchases what season mom likes best.
We concluded the day with not just an exciting first experience for Brock, but I am confident to guess, his first true passion: SLEDDING. As he was placed between his father's legs on the cold plastic, he could feel the rush of adrenaline, and giggled in excitement before the sled even began moving. And did not stop laughing until his feet touched the snow again. Pure happiness. It broke my heart to have to tear my soaking wet, freezing, chapped cheek boy away from this bliss, but a healthy boy is a happy boy (and a happy mom). I think it is fair to say the conniption fit that ensued on the car ride home was justified. So, thank you powers that be, for this wonderful lapse in time, you will not be forgotten.