First off, belated Happy New Year.

Here's the scoop.

The kids haven't had a full week of school since mid-December due to snow days and vacation. We're really pulling for a full five days of class this week. Because of this, I feel like I live in a time warp. I'm not sure what day it is half the time and my routine has been compromised (which as we all know, my life is dictated by).

In my head, snow days are so Norman Rockwell. We get up, I make a great breakfast, we gear up and sled, music is playing in the trees, the birds are singing, we come in to a planned crafty activity that will certainly create lasting memories of bliss filled snow days. Then we hunker down by a cozy fire and read poetry, play music, and settle into our respective quiet pasttimes (cross stitch, a card game, knitting). In the end the kids climb the stairs sayin, "night ma, night pa" like Little House on the Prairie. (Of course, I'm exaggerating).

Instead, a REAL snow day is, everyone is up early, except me who thinks "where do we have to rush to, let's stay in our cozy beds". Next the kids shove down a bowl of cocoa puffs and start begging, "can we go outside?" until I cave in about 10:00 am. In the meantime, though, they've already spilled two cups of milk, destroyed the living room and playroom, colored, painted, watched TV, and had two or three arguments. So, after I cave in, we get geared up. 45 minutes later we are ready to go outside. 10 minutes later we're back in and they announce that they are indeed, "bored".

Lunchtime rolls around and nobody is happy with what I have on hand (which, albeit, is usually not that much), so they complain until I practically throw the jar of peanut butter at their heads. Finally, naptime for the twins. 1:00pm. Of course, that is hit or miss and lately, more miss. They run between their rooms, play, jump around, laugh (not too much napping happening there) until one may crash out. If I'm lucky, they both fall asleep. Then I tell the older two to read in their room and play quietly. For about 20 minutes, I can quickly reassemble the house and think, "what is for dinner?". Soooner than later, someone is again, "bored" and/or just picked on someone else and we are back to "you're grounded, you're in time out, you'd better go upstairs or I will scream".

Finally, the dinner hour arrives. We muddle through, pray it's not a bath night, and hope Carl can get home from work at a decent time because when he walks in, I say, "tag, you're it!".

That's pretty much what has been going on around here. How bout you? Been busy?