2. Make fun of all the morons running out for milk and bread. Because everyone knows a keg of Vitamin D and a stockpile of honey wheat loaves are the only defense against that 10% chance of “wintry mix”.
3. Get annoyed when school is cancelled before any form of precipitation falls. So maybe the forecast has shifted a bit since yesterday. You’re still trained by experience to believe it when you see it. And right now, you don’t see SHIT.
4. Try to withhold your excitement when snow actually starts coming down. Are those snowflakes? Or ash from the quelled flames of a frozen hell? Because both are equally likely in these parts. Oh shit...is it sticking to the road?
5. Run to the store like a moron (because you’re out of beer and wine). Fuck milk and bread. You wrestled Kroger’s last loaf and gallon out of that old lady’s cold dead hands on Tuesday--back when the town’s unnecessary panicking was encroaching upon your regular weekly menu of cereal and sandwiches. But if no one’s going to work or school tomorrow, the parents are gonna need a refill on some “Saturday Sauce” a few days early. Mommy’s going to the store.
6. Bask in your kids’ misdirected affection when you break the good news that school is already cancelled (again). They instantly worship you like a benevolent dictator. Your words drift gracefully upon them like manna from the heavens. Or like snow. Because yeah. It’s still snowing.
7. Embrace the snow day concept by forgetting all your New Year’s resolutions in a single afternoon. You just split a growler and a sleeve of Girl Scout cookies with the husband and emptied 2 full bags of potato chips into a trough for the kids. All bets are off til the driveway melts.
8. Put off taking the kids outside long enough to DIY some snow gear. This ain’t Fargo, North Dakota, folks. The only waterproof items we own are skin, plastic tailgating ponchos (and possibly waders). In the rare event of snow, we outfit our kids on the fly: plastic grocery bags around doubly-socked feet shoved into rain boots; multiple pairs of sweatpants layered over pajamas; sweatshirts topped with winter coats and rain jackets; Mommy’s peacoat over Daddy’s ski pants and garden galoshes. We are full-on hobo-chic up in this mo-fo. But it’s gonna take a minute...
9. Marvel at the majesty of this rare winter landscape. When you’re not being pelted with snowballs or keeping your kids from concussing themselves on black ice, you’re content to fill yourself with enchantment and awe at the gentle softness of this peaceful white wonderland...at least until someone starts crying and it’s time to “mom” again.
10. Teach your kids to use a sled. You know your kids have never seen snow when they keep trying to launch their sled on the one patch of road that’s showing through. Honey, that’s pavement. Please. Put that sled on some snow.
11. Wait for your kids to realize they’re wet and cold. The real bitch of DIY snow gear is piss-poor water-resistance. Snow angels are all fun and games until the kids are wet to the bone and 10 pounds heavier from the sopping layers that are gradually turning to ice on their bodies. For kids, getting cold is like getting hungry: it hits them like an instantaneous injection of liquid rage and misery. So you’d better be ready.
12. Reassure your crying child that feeling will eventually return to their extremities. This is where they scream in pain and panic as if they’re on fire while you hustle like hell to get their boots off. They’ve convinced you they’re frost-bitten and destined to lose several toes. Spoiler alert: they’re just cold.
13. Curse the wet heap of clothing you peel off your kids. Thank God this routine is not a frequent occurrence in your state. You could not endure the equivalent of taking scuba gear on and off every time you leave or enter the house.
14. Pump your kids full of hot chocolate. To hell with nutritious snacks! Snow days call for a gallon of liquified sugar. Become the Oprah of afternoon treats. YOU get a handful of marshmallows and YOU get a handful of marshmallows. Cavities and behavioral consequences be damned.
15. Spend the next half-hour trying to redirect the sugar high. Because nothing’s safer than indoor play when you’re jacked up on treats. Pass out the helmets and hope for the best.
16. Mediate several consecutive meltdowns. No school and lax routine plus treats and too much togetherness equals everyone suddenly hates everyone. Exponential anger and zero patience all around.
17. Correctly assume that school will be cancelled a third day, even if main roads are reasonably clear. Rural roads and shady side streets, man. They get us every time.
18. Watch your Facebook feed combust with angry outbursts from out-of-towners regarding our lackluster snow-clearing abilities. I’m sure back in Buffalo, a mighty armada of plows would whisk this snow away like a fart in the wind. Unfortunately, this ain’t there. Please accept our intermittently gorgeous days in the dead of winter as consolation for your pain and suffering.
19. Know that it’ll be 60 on Sunday. After 3 straight days stuck at home with the kids, you might be ready to ax your way through the front door like Jack Nicholson in The Shining. But never fear. It’s like they say: If you don’t like the weather here--just wait.
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