Today is my third snow day in a row, spent at home with my toddler. Or, as I’ve taken to calling it: Day Three of the Hostage Situation.
In case you were wondering, I’m the hostage.
I also came down with a cold on Tuesday night/Wednesday sooooo, really the ideal way to spend the past three days.
We’ve played, we’ve colored, we’ve watched Coco, The Incredibles 2 (four times?), Hotel Transylvania (also like three times), Boss Baby. We’ve snacked, Lord, how we’ve snacked.
My house looks like a hurricane went through it. Or more accurately, a hurricane containing a bomb went off, because Jesus I can’t find the motivation to clean, and I feel like shit, and I’m miserable, and trying to stay on top of grad school homework too.
I’m frustrated. But I’m also like resigned to it. Yes, my house is a shitshow, this is my life now.
My toddler just scaled the cupboards to find my stash of Cosmic Brownies, so he’s eating one of those now, while I type this trying to talk myself into writing a paper for my Sociology class about my personal mission statement.
Do you think I’ll get full points if my personal mission statement is stay alive?
Midwesterners, parents in similar situations, bless you. I hope you have wine and chocolate to get you through this terrible time.
Or if you’re pregnant like me, carbs and chocolate.