Reactions to snow days around my house are usually quite varied.
For us parents, it’s immediate angst over our work schedules and devising a plan for kid coverage.
For the kids, there’s no jumping for joy for snow days, probably because they can pick up on the trouble it often causes their parents.
Beckett is usually disappointed because he wants to go to school, particularly when he learns we have to work and he will have to go to day care.
He is now at the age when he needs to be woken up to start getting ready for school. On the last couple snow days, around 7:30 a.m., he came flying down the stairs armed with questions on what we are going to do since school was cancelled. There’s usually a soccer ball at his feet or a football in his hands.
That was the case last Friday when a surprise five inches of snow blanketed inland areas. “Why in the world is it snowing in March?,” he asked before clearly explaining how annoyed he was by it and the likelihood he wouldn’t be able to play soccer in the backyard all weekend because of it. He usually brings God and unfairness into the conversation to demonstrate his disappointment.
Carson is conflicted about the whole snow thing. He gets excited about seeing snow out the window first thing but doesn’t seem to really care one way or the other afterwards. He likes the idea of playing in the snow, but it’s short lived because he will not wear gloves and his hands get cold in short order.
As far as school goes, he’s mild-mannered about it. When I ask him if he’s happy there’s no school, he will give me a thumbs up at first and then a thumbs down.
Here’s to hoping there’s no more of these snow days in our future and that spring has indeed sprung a little early around here.
No electronic is safe at the house.
Both kids are nosy by nature and quite adept at any and all technologies. In fact, Beckett knows more about how to use the iPad than his parents most likely.
Despite his claims otherwise, the iPad is not his, but it might as well be. I can’t remember the last time I used it and the same can be said for Pam, who is the actual so-called owner of the device.
Thanks to Santa, Carson has his own Kindle, which he loves to watch movies and shows on as well as play his favorite games, which these days are Crossy Road, Subway Surfer and Temple Run.
If left unchecked, both kids will spend hours on their respective devices. We do our best to monitor it, but there’s no question there is a high level of electronic use at our house.
After taking out the trash the other night, I came back in shortly before the kids bedtime to find each of them on their own devices and Pam using the laptop in the kitchen.
Figuring I had a minute or two of peace, I looked around for the television remote to catch some sports scores with no luck (I later found it underneath Beckett on the couch). Instead I glanced over the morning paper (it was after 7 p.m. by now) before turning to my phone.
I had to laugh as I looked around the room. There was Carson at the kitchen table watching Monsters University on the Kindle, Pam on the laptop finishing up some work and Beckett on the iPad playing soccer. Just to fit in I pulled out my phone, which was by far the smallest electronic being used in the room.
The irony of that was not lost on Beckett, who offered up some words of advice.
“Daddy, you need to get yourself a bigger device,” he said.
Sometimes all you can do is shake your head, and I find myself doing it quite a lot.
When I found a soccer ball in the dishwasher the other morning, I shook my head in amazement. I was still shaking my head after speaking with Beckett about it because it got in there just as I imagined. He opened it, took a shot, made it and closed it.
After getting in the shower one morning this week, I was back to shaking my head when I found a pair of wet socks in there. I figured it was Beckett forgetting to take his socks off before he got in the shower. That has happened before. It turns out it was not him. It was Carson who threw them in there before bed and I didn’t see them before I turned the water on.
A game of hide-and-seek also had me shaking my head in bewilderment when I discovered both kids trying to cram themselves into the oven because “we are out of good hiding places in this house,” according to Beckett. I was back doing the same thing again when I came upon Carson emptying the freezer of all its contents so he could get in and close it behind him.