Red Wine and Birthday cake for lunch.

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To be  totally honest, since I gave up chocolate for lent, it was just the frosting, but that calmed the raging mom-beast within, so everyone was safer.  Being that I work in a public elementary school, I don’t normally drink wine at lunch, but I’m not at work, because we are on our FIVE THOUSANDTH snow day, so I had a rather rough morning. We had meltdowns, tattling, a shoving match , MANY disobeyed rules, arguing, fibbing and talking back… ALL BEFORE NOON!  The only  thing to do was to drag out a stale birthday cake from the fridge and drink some of the wine I had opened for my dinner prep to save everyone.

Lets see..it started out with a small burn of discontent.. I really am tired of snow, tired of days off and I need to do my job. Timelines don’t change with snow days so I my work anxiety was roiling around in my brain but I knew that the pain-in-the-ass Pollyanna in me reminded me to enjoy the day.. be a fun mom for a day.. let it go..

SO.. . a St. Patrick’s day snow day meant green pancakes.. (idea of genius college girlie)  happiness all around.. going well!   I was prepping a yummy crockpot meal to stew all day for the evening meal so with forced happiness I bribed them, Lets do some chores and then a YES, you can go outside! ….and the children rejoiced.

This was the perfect snow for snowballs/snow men and actually enough to do it. .. . oldest grandboy shovels neighbor’s drive way for cash so off he went. Teenaged boy had crawled out of bed to forage for food and wanted to take the overly energetic dogs out to play.  OK, I was game.. let’s do it!  Youngest boy was delighted to find a long forgotten about extra pair of snow pants and bundled himself off to find his best friend and make plans for a grand day of sledding.    Grandgirl was slower to get going, she had had a big big weekend with Girl Scouts and her best friends having another birthday celebration so she was a little  hung over from the festivities.

.. and then the meltdowns began….

where is the sock basket? grandgirl queried.

there is no sock basket , growled the grandma bear.. you have socks in your room. (whilst an overflowing basket of laundry sat perched on the couch, which, undoubtedly  held at least one pair of long socks)  .. angst and tantrum seemed imminent, she was sent to her room to calm down.

30 seconds later: Enter boychild.. hey grandma nextdoorneighbor kid can’t find his gloves, so I’m going to give him a pair.  (our glove basket is on par with our sock basket, so this was a big NO)  I reminded boychild that said neighbor boy had a perfectly lovely mother who is wonderful and good and will provide her child with appropriate cold weather gear.  (behind the scenes story found out later.. . neighborboy was told that if he didn’t find gloves/hat he could not go out.,.. he didn’t want to look, so my boy was going to rescue him!)   grumbling and angst filled the kitchen ..I stood firm.. OUT!! I shouted and he left.

girl child returned, she appeared calm.  Excellent.. she still couldn’t find socks, but recalled having left some in the van.    I pondered if maybe it would be better to just get a clean pair of tall soccer socks out of the basket younder..indicating socks protruding out..   crisis averted.  Don’t forget your long sleeve shirt.. I reminded her… stomping of feet was overlooked (pick your battles I reminded myself.. eye on the prize get them OUTSIDE)

alas, it was not to be.. as teenboy and I took the dogs out for fun, we had to reel youngest boy back to the approved sledding area,  and left grandgirl inside to finish putting on her gear.   I took a turn sledding, had the big dog pull me for a while.. laughed and shrieked along with the boys.

It was a beautiful moment.. for about fifteen seconds.  .. and then grandgirl came out in boots which had somehow split apart at the seam.    OK>. no worries.. supergrandmom was on the case…. I boasted..we can totally fix this… you shall wear auntie’s rain boots with your sneakers on to help keep you dry and warm!  (I AM A GENIUS !)  Until, .. I helped her off with her shoes and found she had on just mini socks.  …( deep breath.. control your anger, pick your battles…)   where are the long soccer socks I gave you?

(grandgirl picked this moment to pull an ugly face and state quite belligerently) I didn’t want to put those on, mine are in the van. …    I’d like to say I held it under control, but I lost my mind a little bit… “Ok, you have to stay in for the morning session.  Disobeying and being a smarty pants get you docked play time” is what I said.  From the tantrum that ensued she must have heard “Your life is over, I’m locking you under a bed for all eternity, canceling Christmas, Easter and your Birthday forever” ..there was screaming, kicking, sobbing… it was loud.     I walked away.

Dogs were brought in by teen boy,  the younger boys and neighbor boy (who miraculously enough found a pair of gloves in his own house) were dispatched to shovel the driveway of family in neighborhood who just had a new baby.   …,my angst was festering,  rumbling under the surface.. a quiet beast starting to stir.  I started to chop veggies for the crockpot.  And then the ins and outs began.

I have to go to the bathroom

Hurry up, use the one there, don’t drip all over the house, close the door, don’t let the dogs back out.

 30 seconds after he went back out  #3 won’t help. 

tell him to help

30 seconds later: Grandma Can we have hot chocolate?

Is Neighbor’s driveway done?

No…

Hmm.. NO.. go finish your job.

30 seconds later:

#3 is making snow angels in the neighbor’s driveway.

<sigh> send him in.

Angst and anger walked in the door surrounding grandboy (also known a #3) grumbling and arguments started as soon as he walked in the door. tattling on brother who had just tattle on him.. my ears started to bleed a little…… To save his life, he was sent to his room.  … slamming and crying to match his sister’s crying followed.

At the same time, Teenboy decided Xbox is more fun than folding laundry and the last grandchild not grounded came in looking for hot chocolate again.. and sent back out to retrieve all sleds/shovels/outergear left by brother who was upstairs pouting.  

  Why do I have to clean up after him?!

Because you tattled on him and you know that if you tattle instead of working it out, you get the same punishment.

DOOR SLAM.

Allll before noon.  Children were banished from the first floor completely.  Grandchildren were restricted to their own rooms and I reached for the cake and decided on the Julia Child’s cooking philosophy.. One for the pot, one for the cook..  It was the only way to save the children.

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