Day 12 - Another Snow Day

Where is the justice in the fact that in the 12 days that my Other Half has been away we have had four - count 'em - 4 Snow Days?! I would say that three of the four have been pretty lame excuses for cancelling the buses. Why in my day the buses would only be cancelled if the snow was up to the second floor windows, if the ice had brought down the power lines or if my mother decided she could stand to have the three of us at home (then she would tell us the buses were cancelled. Of course, now my kids just go on line to check).

I have to admit that a part of me is happy that I didn't have to make lunches this morning, that it is 9:15am and I am still in my pj's. But it is only 9:15am and the day is stretching out in front of me like a the last mile of a marathon. In fact, I feel like I have run a marathon. 12 days as a single mother, two weekends trundling back and forth to the ski hill and the hockey arena with skis, skates, lunches, the dog and a rowing shell (it was a donation for a fundraiser) and more than a couple of bottles of wine. We made it, everyone is healthy, everyone is still alive and the house is still standing.

So far the boys have ignored their breakfast, cut up my Vanity Fair magazines to make "bobbleheads." This entails cutting out big heads and gluing them onto to paper with small bodies. That craft project lasted exactly 4 minutes before they were off to the basement to make an Obama Mii to play with on the Wii. (As I mentioned in my last post, everyone here in the north was very much taken by President Obama's visit to Ottawa, including my three Obamamaniacs.)

Of course, there are six more hours to go until Dad pulls into the drive and my time in Single Mom Purgatory is over. The plan for the next six hours? Let them play Wii until the fights break out. Send them outside to start shovelling the driveway, "If you don't Daddy might not be able to make it home." Send them across the road to skate on our neighbour's rink. Make a lemon meringue pie for the Welcome Home dinner and force, I mean, encourage the boys to make a Welcome Home banner.

Wish me luck!