Just Another Snow Day

We've had our share of snow days and delays this month.  In fact, I'm pretty sure I've only worked five full days since before Winter Break, so that's been extremely nice.  We're a little stir-crazy, and the kids are getting tired of only playing with each other and us on most days, but we try to stay happy and have fun.  Today was no different!

I was feeling very proud of myself this morning because last night, I made myself write all 23 comments for my report cards.  The comments are what I dread the most, so I decided to start there.  I usually procrastinate and do everything else under the sun before I'll sit down to tackle report card comments, but this time I tried a different approach, and I must say, it made me happy.  And then, when my alarm went off early this morning, I saw the text that schools were closed, and I happily rolled over and drifted back to sleep.  It's always a good way to start the day...

We had a lazy morning.  I made sausage for breakfast, or rather, I heated up some sausage, and then the kids and I were just laying around after Brad left for work.  Hannah came up to me with a little shy smile and a marker and announced she was making a picture.  Awhile later I got to send this adorable picture to Brad:

Clearly, I shouldn't have assumed it was for me :)  

After that, Hannah was anxious to get outside in the snow.  She can't get enough, and she loves to help us shovel.  Jack was feeling better after a low-grade fever this weekend, so we bundled up and headed outside.

They love to show off all of their hard work!

Making snow angels

I love just watching them fall back into the snow, and they're oh-so-happy about it.

Jack's masterpiece

I took them sledding down the mini-hill on the side of our house, and when I turn to miss the fence, they spill out and laugh and laugh.

We went inside and had lunch, and then a couple of hours later, Hannah comes into my room wearing a swimsuit and announcing she's going to make a pool to go swimming!

Ready for a swim

Her pool.  Side-note: as soon as I fold these blankets and put them away, they are pulled back out to make a fort, a pool, a tent, or something of that nature.  Maybe I should just leave them out?

A happy swimmer

Tomorrow I'm sure we'll have school.  Not too bad, considering I'll only have a three-day work week.  And my report cards are pretty much finished, so there's always that :)

I Call Her a Chocolate Detective

So, Hannah has a sweet tooth like her mom.

She loves chocolate (and says choc-o-lit in the most adorable way possible).

Admittedly, she gets a fair amount of chocolate here and there, but we try to only give the kids candy in very small amounts and way before bedtime.

Sometimes (okay, frequently) I get a chocolate-craving during a time when Hannah shouldn't be eating chocolate.  So I have to sneak off into the kitchen, take a teeny bite, and then meander my way back to whatever we were doing, trying to be as stealthy as possible.

Twice now - she's caught me.

She always sweetly says, "Mommy, I smell something.  What are you eating, Mommy?  Let me see what's in your mouth, it smells so good, Mommy."

This, mind you, is after I've swallowed the chocolate, taken a drink, and slowly made my way back to her.

She's got a nose like a hound dog.  I'm in trouble...

I love you 16.

Tonight, after I tucked Jack in and snuggled him tight, Brad and I switched kids' rooms.  I snuggled down with Hannah and gave her a kiss on her head.

I whispered, "I love you so much, Hannah Bear."

She whispered back, "I love you a thousand."

"I love you a thousand and one," I said.

"I love you a thousand and two."

While I lay there amazed at the fact that she could comprehend these high numbers and what it means to love someone so much, she brought me back to reality.

She whispered, "I love you sixteen," and smiled.

And I just smiled back and gave her another kiss.

It was funny because I know the difference between a thousand and two and sixteen, and it is vast.

But I also know that our tiny peanut thinks 16 is also a big number, and her little heart is just swelling with love.

I'm a lucky mama.

The Lessons They Teach Us

This weekend was a lazy weekend around our house.  We didn't have any plans going into it, and we didn't even get out of our jammies until we decided to take the kids out to dinner on Saturday night.  We had big breakfasts and napped and watched TV.  Yesterday afternoon, I hung out with the kiddos and did some school work while they watched Christmas movies.  Brad was doing some work on the turtle tanks.  It wasn't a very planned or eventful weekend.

If I'm being honest, I usually feel very unsettled about these weekends.  I don't especially like going into a weekend that's fully planned because, in theory, I like to have plenty of relaxation time.  But in reality, it makes me anxious.  I always feel super lazy and unmotivated, and then I feel guilty that I didn't get enough done or seize the day or something.

I also feel guilty that I didn't plan a fun, family event.  We didn't go to a museum or a pumpkin patch (Christmas tree farm?) or even to the store.  I felt bad when Jack announced that he was bored, like I'd let him down.  I realize this is crazy, but this is what I think.  Every weekend where I haven't planned something rather substantial, I secretly am feeling guilty, which makes it quite difficult to relax.  I wonder what Jack will write about when his teacher asks him to write about his weekend.  Will he have anything to say?

Let's just say...I shouldn't have worried.

"I ate sausage.  I slept.  I snuggled with my mom.  I played with my sister.  I love home."

And also, I shouldn't feel guilty.  Because, clearly, he loves his down time, too.

Silent Sunday

Our three year old.  How time does fly...

And many thanks to Forever Studio for having the good sense to make Hannah cover her temporary candy corn tattoo with her other arm so as to avoid having a temporary tattoo in her school picture.  Kudos to you!

My Favorite Cheerleader

I had the worst headache I remember having, all day long yesterday.  Literally, from the time I got out of bed, until I went to bed last night.

Normally, I would have tried to try to curl into bed and turn off the lights, and go to sleep.

But I teach first grade, so that was impossible.  I took several Motrin - nothing.  I pressed on my scalp and adjusted my ponytail all day, to no avail.  I pleaded with the little people to whisper, to no avail.  I felt like they were shouting all day.  I don't think they actually were, although that wouldn't be a first, but I'm pretty sure that was just my perception of their noise level based on the pain in my head.  It wasn't pretty.

After work, I went to pick up the kids.  We gathered all of their things, and I got them home.  We started to unpack the car, when I heard a ringing noise in my ears.  

"Kiddos, we've got to get inside, my head feels like it's about to explode."

I think those were my exact words before I opened the door to the garage and realized that the ringing noise I'd heard in the garage was a very loud, piercing alarm that was going off somewhere inside our house.  Incessantly.

We came inside.  There was no fire.  It was not the carbon monoxide detector.  I made my way to the basement, realizing that the alarm was a leak detector that Brad had placed around our furnace/hot water heater/humidifier.  Which meant that there was also a leak...

Yes, indeed there was a leak.  I turned off the furnace, but the sensor was wet and so the beeping continued.  I tried to dry it on my clothes.  It didn't work.

I texted Brad, but he was at his office holiday party, so I Googled.  Immediately, I found the detector and the Owner's Manual, but nowhere in the manual did it tell you how to turn off the alarm.

I went back to Google, and people said to dry the sensors.

I ran back downstairs, ready to blow dry the sensor if need be, just so that the extra ringing in my head would stop.  Remember...worst headache EVER!

The sensor wouldn't dry, but I noticed an uneven seam.  With, what felt like, Hulk Smash strength, I pulled apart the detector, and pulled the connectors off of the battery.

Silence.  Sweet silence.  I was oh-so-happy.

And I needed more Motrin.

I went to get the medicine when our littlest peanut met me at the top of the stairs.

"Mommy, you did it!  You didn't need Daddy after all - you did it all by yourself!  You stopped that beeping noise - I'm so proud of you!"

I love that we've taught that girl what it means to be proud, I really do.  Because, at that moment, it was just what I needed :)

Just Now

Tonight, we all read a story together in Jack's room.  Afterwards, Daddy took Hannah into her room, sang her a song and tucked her in, while I stayed and snuggled with Jack for a few minutes.  Then, I went into Hannah's room, and she was a little sad.

"What's wrong, Baby Girl?"

"I'm sad."

"Why are you so sad, Hannah?"

"Because I didn't get to see Brady or Channing at all!"

I promised to schedule play-dates, sang her another song, and nuzzled her tiny, baby neck.  I tucked her in and slipped away.

A few moments later, Hannah started crying.  I looked at Brad and begged, without words, for him to go.  At the end of the night, I'm near exhaustion and sometimes I just don't have one more ounce to give.  He happily went, and all was well.

Until five minutes later,  when Hannah showed up in our room, crawled into her Daddy's lap, and watched the last few minutes of America's Funniest Home Videos.  When it was over, she wanted me to take her back to her room.

I heaved myself over the edge of the bed, took her back to her room, brushed her hair off her neck, and slipped away once again.

A few minutes later?  

Crying.  I looked at Brad again.  I might have put my finger on my nose, indicating, "Not it!"

He was gone awhile, and I started to feel guilty, so I went to see what happened.  I found Brad, snuggled up tight with Hannah on her toddler bed.  I went into her room, kissed her on her forehead, and whispered, "You have the best daddy in the whole wide world."

"I already know that, Mommy," she whispered back.

So I slipped away once more, leaving her to relish special daddy-time and him to relish the fact that he is oh-so-loved.