
We're busy. Two working parents, three kids and always something to accomplish. Busy busy busy.
But today we enjoy a forced vacation. As we slept, the flakes began. By the morning we had 18 inches of snowfall. Nobody is going anywhere.
Four-year-old Ethan still gets me out of bed at six, but instead of making lunches and putting out cereal, we snuggle under a blanket on the couch drinking coffee and juice and watching the weather. A downy comforter drapes the houses behind us-400 thread-count snow, by the looks of it. I know there are houses beyond, but on this day we are nearly alone.
Dried sunflower stalks bend under the weight of the wet powder, and all my flowerbeds sculpt the yard with random lumps. Ethan points to the playground area and says, "Look, Mommy. The snow is swinging!" He giggles, and I imagine the flakes fighting each other for a fun place to land. A gust of wind whooshes a billow of flakes across the yard; the snow plays, no matter where it falls.
Nine-year-old Ben and I will play Battleship and my daughter Sophie will read me extra chapters of our shared novel. Usually reserved for evenings and bedtimes, these moments will stretch into this day. My husband Ryan and I will take turns going cross-country skiing out our front door and down the road with the dog following closely behind. We'll spend more time getting all three kids ready to go outside than the time they'll actually spend in the snow. Cold melted puddles show up in mysterious places, wetting our socks unexpectedly. I'll make soup with whatever ingredients are in the house.
Because my home office prohibits the "impossible commute" excuse, I'll huddle in front of the computer, continuing the Internet race. I imagine sending emails to empty offices, dark and chilly, where nothing is being accomplished. I hope that all my hard-working clients are snuggled into their own houses with their own families, enjoying one of the greatest things about living in Colorado.
This day is a little blip on the calendar. By tomorrow, chances are we'll be back to normal, navigating icy patches on the road and waiting for snowplows to move over. All of today's forgotten work will get done somehow. Tomorrow, we'll be back to busy busy busy, and I'll look forward to the next surprise day off.
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