There was this brief, though glorious, period of time yesterday during which my children weren’t too cool for me, or each other. They didn’t think they knew best, they didn’t deliberately make decisions with the intent of annoying each other, they didn’t mind hugging me, and they weren’t afraid to laugh with me – thereby admitting that they think I’m sort of funny. They had a snow day. When they went to bed on Sunday evening, there was no significant snow, and not even any reason to believe any was on its way. By the time they awoke, the world was white. We live in Colorado at more than a mile in elevation, but we don’t usually get very much snow. In fact, Noah is in 3rd grade and yesterday was his first snow day ever. They were in the best moods yesterday morning, and they both climbed into bed with me and we talked and giggled, and I couldn’t help but love the snow.
Today, it’s all melting away. And with the return of dry roads and clear skies, I have also seen the return of my pubescent son’s “too cool for everything – especially my mother” attitude. Everything is met with sighs and grumbles and arguments, which always brings out the fighter in me.
I’ve never liked little orphan Annie, and I think I’m beginning to understand why. “The sun’ll come out tomorrow.” Yep. And how annoying it is that she thinks that’s a good thing.
The Year of Blogging Faithfully 