The Calm Before The Artic Blast

Jan 9, 2010 by winjaw

Weather is playing havoc with school.  Christmas break is extended a day due to weather.

The Sons of Thunder are finally sent packing back to school a day later. A side note: why can they get up at 6 a.m. on holiday, but can’t get up until 7:30 a.m. on a school day, despite threats, water torture and shock treatments?

Anyway, I finally have a day of quiet.  Time to write, to think, to plan. Time to realize how quiet the house is without the Sons.  I love the Sons, but the constant barrage of noise can drive one a little batty. Especially when one can’t really escape outside because it’s below zero with the windchill.

Nevertheless, I am enjoying my Wednesday solitude.  This despite the fact we may face more crazy weather. And that fact has led me to drive the Little Black Dress down to the big town. She has a pageant to judge, and having a judge stuck out in the country when they’re supposed to be judging in the big town is not good.  I get the LBD down to the big town and get back in time to pick up the Sons.  They will be in school for the next two days, I will be alone. Life is good (despite not having the LBD around), but you get my point.

“ARTIC BLAST.  No School for two days!!!!!!” the youngest Son bellows upon getting in the car.  Said phrase is repeated twice more by the other two upon their entry into the transportation vehicle. Plus they have notes from the various principals.

This means four days, alone with the Sons, with an “artic blast” expected.

For the record, we are surviving.  No bones broken, no blood spilt – at least nothing really measurable.  Necessities – food, wood, toilet paper, all collected prior to the coming storm. The generators are gassed up.
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We go to sleep, knowing the ice, snow and freezing temperatures will meet us with the morning sun.

Dawn arises, it is freezing. But there is no snow, no ice.  The “artic blast” brought colder weather, but nothing else.  The Sons easily could have gone to school.  But they are home, with me.  For four days, without the LBD.

Yeah, this is that quality time everyone talks about.  Just me and the Sons, eating pizza over the kitchen sink, farting without saying excuse me, not making the bed, missing the dirty clothes hamper.  Telling stories, hanging around the fire. Just really getting into the father-son bonding thing. Yep, all over that.

And I’m just writing up a storm.  And that would be a big lie. And I finally give up. And I look at the Sons and say “yes … please.”  And they go “YEAH” and the electronic games are on.

I don’t care what all those child shrinks say, there is only so much “quality time” you can spend with your kids before you need some of your own quality time – and I mean alone.

But at least it’s quiet again.