Snowpocalypse Day 3

Dear diary,

I am so sorry that I passed out last night from pure exhaustion before I had time to click the ‘publish’ button. To all of my fantastic readers, I am sorry I left you on the edge of your seat just wondering what happened in day 3.

So yesterday was like Day 2 and Day 2.5; time stands still and sometimes you are convinced that the clock is going backwards.

It started off with making eggs- enough for two kids. It’s funny how you ask ‘who wants eggs?’ and two kids say yes and one says no. Then you make the damn eggs and the other kid wants eggs but there are no damn eggs left. Now you have to cook more eggs because the kid that is still hungry won’t stop growing.

After that, it was cleanup time. God forbid I ask them to clean up their toys- mayhem ensues. All of a sudden all three kids are dying.

I called Joe for reinforcement but he could only give me twenty minutes at lunch time- yes it was something but I needed a little more… like an entire afternoon of help. When I say reinforcement, I need guns blazing and I need to hunker down in a bunker because the kids are crazy.

I needed to let the kids go outside. Yup, forty minutes getting ready and twenty minutes of play time. Yup, all the same issues. They are wet and cold. Maybe this is why you shouldn’t let your brother and sister bury you in the snow. I don’t know; just a thought. It’s not like July and you are covering yourself in sand- it’s snow. Let me tell you about snow- it’s wet and it’s cold and our family does not own snow pants or boots. You are going out there with two pairs of pants and my socks and your sneakers. That’s how I was raised- you will survive… UNLESS you let your siblings bury you in the cold, wet SNOW.

Lunch time… still not much food so chicken nuggets for the third day in a row is good. I made it more healthy by adding organic applesauce. That seems like a balanced diet.

Quiet time… was not so quiet but it was two hours to do important things like watch ‘The Night at the Museum.’ Never saw it- good movie. Ben Stiller was really believable as a night security guard who took care of all the exhibits that became alive. To be honest, T-rex scared me because I have seen ‘Jurassic Park’- dinosaurs eat people.

Finally it was 3:30pm… so happy about this because I was able to go to therapy! Woo! I was so excited to get out of the house. I would rather go to therapy then take one more minute of ‘Thomas the Train Engine’ or ‘Wally Kazam.’ I would even rather go to the GYN. Now that’s saying something. First off, at the gyn, their equipment is cold and when they say ‘you will feel two fingers checking your ovaries,’ that’s bullshit because it feels like an entire fist is up there. Like a family of fists. Yeah, I would have rather done that but thankfully it was therapy and I like my therapist.

I finally got home and the kids were hugging me and kissing  me. It was great to be home and then three, tiny people started asking me for three different things. I don’t even think that I had my shoes off yet. When can you get your own milk?

I forgot to go to Bj’s (haha, bj’s) today and we are still cleaning out the pantry for dinner and because of that… what did the kids have for dinner? More eggs! Woo! I hope their cholesterol is ok.

Now, the kids are in bed and I can pour myself a cold one. Tomorrow is another day of Snowpocolypse Day 4. Stay tuned.

Until next time,

I need a friend to drink with. ‘Wilson?! Wilson!’


Published by


I am a mother of three small children with a wonderful husband. Having children is not as simple as black and white. Having kids is black, white and crazy. I hope you enjoy my blog of my crazy escapades.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s