I'm enjoying a few rare, quiet moments on a Sunday afternoon, everyone but me snoozing in their respective nap spaces (Sweet Boy in his snuggy bed, Big Daddy in his snuggy recliner, SallyCat on my feet, Pitino on the sofa behind my head). We're hunkering down in wild anticipation of a big ol' end-of-winter snow storm. I'm hoping we get a whopper, frankly. Boy has been asking daily to build a snowman since about, oh, November and my heart breaks a little every time we get one of these piddly mid-Atlantic dustings and he begs to go out and build Frosty. Bring it on, Old Man Winter! We've been waiting for you!
As you probably know from experience or imagination, winter is hard when you're either the mom of a rambunctious 3-year old, or of course, the rambunctious 3-year-old himself. Add to the cold, harsh days that keep you cooped inside mom's work schedule that keeps her glued to the computer, and well, you get punchy...rude...whiny...ugly. This was the scene last week when I finally powered down the e-mail and pulled out the old king-sized sheets to build the Best Fort Ever.
When I was a kid (and yes, even when I was in college) I loved to build elaborate sheet-fort hideouts. And I'm pretty good at building them; I remember teaching my grandmother how to drape sheets just so over dining room chairs and the piano, while she fretted about the ottoman I'd balanced on the back of the sofa to hold down one side of a sheet. So it's hard to believe that this was the first time I've built a fort with Sweet Boy! But I'm pretty sure he's on his way to being a sheet-fort aficionado as well.
We hung out under the tent reading safari-themed books and pretending that SallyCat and Pitino were ferocious lions stalking us. We ate a safari dinner of chicken nuggets and green beans, then snuggled up to watch Curious George on the portable DVD player. Daddy even got in on the fun when he came home (and informed me that he was too old and creaky to spend too much time on the floor with us...and that he was not going to rub my back for me when I realized that I too am old and creaky -- party pooper!) and he read us Where the Wild Things Are.
I'll have you know I am not too old and creaky for hanging out under a sheet-fort. And I can think of no better way to beat the winter blahs!