Snow Days

When we were celebrating a lovely Christmas down south with my family in Atlanta, we were "lucky" enough to have a white Christmas.  Handyman and I had a quiet chuckle to ourselves at the mass hysteria that could be induced by 3 inches of snow (okay, let's be honest, we had an out-and-out guffaw of pure derision).

I found these pictures of a six inch snowfall that we had gotten a few days before Christmas back here in the Frigid North.

School was not canceled.

Bread, milk, and eggs were still available in the grocery stores.

The weatherman barely bothered to mention it.

Southern Sissies.

(Drat.  Does this mean I've become a Yankee?  Heaven forbid!!!!)

A White Post

We here in the Frigid North are being forecast to receive ridiculous amounts of snow starting, well, now through tomorrow AFTERNOON. Twelve inches in some places! The small child in me is rather excited to be buried alive in the white stuff, but as that small child is very, very, very small regarding snow matters, I have effectively locked aforementioned small child in the basement of my soul until it can behave itself rationally.

Since my view from the window is showing nothing but whiteness, I figured I'd do a white post today.

This is a picture of a deer that was gifted to us by formerly blogless Lynn's husband, whom I believe she is going to start calling "the Great White Hunter" on her blog for purposes of safety and anonymity. (As it is obvious that her husband has an entire arsenal of weaponry at his disposal, I don't much see her point).

While Handyman and I are extremely grateful for GWH's generous gift and prodigious skills in the killing department (Handyman is already drooling over the summer sausages he's going to get, and I'm dreading Handyman's breath afterwards, but anyway . . .), I have to wonder at my friend's taste in men. I mean, did she know that her hubby was slightly crazy when she married him? The man shot this deer early in the morning - THE MORNING IT WAS 35 BELOW ZERO!!!!!!!!! That day it was so cold, when I went to their house to pick up the animal, I was freezing in my boots just standing outside for a few minutes! The deer itself was still steaming, and I was very ticked at the deer for being warmer than me.

You know, I'll never understand people who's hobbies lead them to go to drastic measures . . . . oh . . . hmmm . . . . yes, I see what you mean. . . perhaps I shouldn't look too hard at other people's hobbies . . . . anyway, onward . . .

Well, I figure that Great White Hunter and I are even, as he was wonderful enough to shoot us two deer in abysmally freezing temperatures, and I baked them chocolate chip cookies in return. How does that even out, you say? Easy. He obviously enjoys hunting, and I hate baking cookies. Hate it. With a passion. Complete waste of time. So, we're even.

A few days later, when the weather warmed up a bit, I was a good momma and took the kids outside for an hour. Did I mention that I hate playing in the snow? (Hmmm, must stop complaining . . . sorry . . . ) The weather's been so cold here this winter, that all the snow we've been getting has been worthless for sculpting/playing purposes. Poor Peter, he sees all this wonderful looking snow outside, and it doesn't even stick together enough to make a snowball.

I finally just got out my shovel and dug two small holes in the biggest snow drift I could find, and declared it a "snow fort". It seemed to satisfy them, poor deluded children.

Breanna was surprisingly happy outside the last time we ventured beyond the door step. Of course, she's usually content if she's got something to eat.

Can you believe that my innocent, sweet-looking son could be such a stinker? He carried that gigantuan ball of ice all the way up the stairs, just so he could dump it on me. *Sigh* He must get his devious streak from Handyman.

Or not.

When is April Fool's Day again?

(Please note: April Fool's is my ultimate favorite holiday. It even ranks above Christmas.)

Guilty as Charged

I'm going to break two of my cardinal rules, so prepare to be shocked and appalled: Rule #1 - never admit to having anything less than total aversion to snow; Rule #2 - never admit to playing with my children.

The reason for these rules is obvious, of course. If I admit even the teensiest bit of fondness for snow, than my favorite source of complaint is gone. Then I have to find something else innocuous to complain about. Nope, snow is the most convenient thing about which to whinge. Secondly, a mother of little kids must never admit to playing with her children, lest this cause guilt and self-loathing in other mothers. Playing with one's own children must be kept a deep, dark, dirty secret. Blogging such criminal behaviour probably merits expulsion from the "Mom's-are -Over-worked-and-Underpaid-so-Pity-Us" clique. Alas.

Since we've gotten such a supreme dumping of snow, I figured I might as well make use of this stuff to entertain the kids. Peter is incapable of playing by himself, so that requires Mommy to exclaim, "Oh, how wonderful" and "Isn't that amazing!". (There really isn't any difference between little men and big men. I have found Handyman to preen like a turkey under similar sentiments. . .)

Sometimes I wonder if Peter can really be my child. How can he possibly look so happy while lying in the snow? As we had a home birth, there's no chance of a switched-baby mistake.

Banna-Boo definitely has my genes.

While Peter can find endless ways to entertain himself with the snow, Banna-Boo has only one use for the white stuff - yup, she eats it. This isn't all that surprising, as she will eat anything that holds still long enough.

Now this I can applaud. This says, "I refuse to admit that fall is over and winter is here." (No, that isn't my pumpkin. Mine either blew away or were dumped by a dis-believing Handyman.)

My Personal Opinion

It's snowing. I'm officially in mourning.Snow should be confined to photographs, quaint Christmas songs, and calendars.