The day had just begun and the morning already promised be a nasty one. My body was sore and stiff, and it took several
moments to work up the courage to crawl out from underneath the warm blankets.
With a glance, I realized it was so white outside you couldn’t see out the windows. I recalled someone mentioning the continued blizzard the day before and scolded myself for not paying more attention to the details of the conversation.
After several moments talking myself up, I forced myself to get moving and rouse my kids. My five-year-old refused to get out of bed. My twelve-year-old insisted on using my cell phone to check if the busses were running.
The last two days had been snow days for rural children with only the urban routes running, and he was desperate to have a snow day. After a moment’s hesitation, I caved and allowed him 5 minutes to look and see while I went downstairs and started breakfast.
Close to ten minutes later the coffee was brewed and the pancakes were sizzling in the pan when they finally came stomping down the upstairs hallway. The weight of their steps allowed me to follow their every move and know exactly which one was where in the house.
The eldest appeared at the table first while the younger stopped at the bathroom. After he loaded his plate with three pancakes he told me the in town buses were running. Only the Out of Towner’s received a snow day. Again!
A few seconds later the younger joined us at the table chatting about a dream she had during the night. Slightly surprised to see her dressed, I helped fix her plate. After I rinsed my dishes, I promised myself I would finish them as soon as I returned home, and excused myself from the table.
While they ate, I buzzed around getting myself organized. All of us needed to be ready to go when the bus arrived. I had a morning meeting and could not afford to be late. This was something we had struggled with in recent days, and I needed to leave as soon as the bus left
I called from behind my half-closed door and encouraged them to hurry and finish eating while I dressed. When I finished, I fluttered back down the stairs to pack bags and help with zippers and boots.
I was feeling confident the morning would be successful and everyone would be ready on time when I realized that there was a missing lunch pail. After a quick glance around and realizing the lunch pail was not to be found, I called for my youngest to return to the kitchen.
Upon asking her, she informed me she was unsure where she left it but knew it did not come home in her backpack. Relatively frustrated, and deciding not to mention she had now tracked her wet boots all over the house, I threw her lunch in a plastic bag.
I stuffed the bag into her backpack and told her to make sure she looked in the lost-and-found box when she got to school. I sent them to the bus stop and followed along only moments after them.
Shivering harshly, I jumped into my car and turned on the ignition. As I sat there, waiting for it to warm up, I silently congratulated myself for a job well done while simultaneously scolding myself for not starting the car sooner.