Tag Archives: snow

This is the Storm

Twenty-one years ago, the first week of March, I was hugely pregnant with child number two, due in ten days. Big sister was a toddler of 17 months.

Steve and I hung out Wednesday night, as usual. Nothing about our world was different. There were no expectations. I hadn’t gotten to the point in the pregnancy where I was ready to birth out a baby. Child one arrived three days early. In my mind there was still over a week to go.

We went to bed, alarm set to wake us in the morning for another day of work.

Thursday I woke and found Steve already downstairs. He was facing the sliding glass door which opened to the tiny back deck off of the kitchen. The deck was covered in many, many inches of snow.

Julie, look at this!

I think my water just broke.

That’s how it went down. I think my water just broke. Why else would I be peeing in the living room on the carpet? Excitement?!

It’s a good thing that we were planning a home birth. We just had to figure a way to get the midwife from Dayton.

tbt big snow

It’s a good thing I have slow and steady, steady and slow labors. It would be a full day before that little, wrinkly, leathery old man would make his way reluctantly into the world.

But this is the storm.

It’s a little different today. Instead of waking to the ground covered with snow, I woke to thick rain hitting the windows. Then ice pellets changing over to heavy wet flakes and back to pellets.

It’s different because back in 1994 there wasn’t access to the technology that we have today, especially in our little townhouse-apartment. No TV, internet, nothing smart, not even a newspaper. Only talk radio that wasn’t listened to all that often. Certainly no anticipation of a weather event. No chatter and buzz.

School is closed today. Entirely.

That Thursday, March 3, 1994, was the first time that Good Shepherd School closed its doors for a snow day. By Friday the sun was shining and roads were clear. That part isn’t looking as promising this year, but by the weekend, I’m guessing, clear.

So we hunker down for another snow day; one of our last, I secretly hope. I try to relax and relieve the pressure I feel building inside and remind myself that sufficient for each day is it’s evil. And this isn’t evil.

My son turned 21 on Tuesday. It feels like yesterday that I was standing in the middle of a tiny living room, looking out at the tiny back deck covered in snow, excitement and fear mounting, wondering how the day would end.

It ended with me cradling a tiny person in my arms, both of us tucked into bed for our first night together.

In the snow. In March.

I wonder what this snow day in March will bring?

Breakfast Tray

Thursday dawned a surprise snow day

And with it came a breakfast tray

And littles who promised it wasn’t a bribe

From the second half of my native tribe

For extra media or episodes

But just because they loved me so

And the food prepared was rather good

It tasted just as breakfast should

And this mom felt lots of love

For her precious treasures from above.

Shalom.

Snow on a Saturday

It’s a change of perspective, this view from my bed, propped by pillows to gaze out the windows at the falling snow.

Snow on a Saturday is a rare, beautiful thing, removing the pressure of errands and running around; encouraging true stillness and rest.

Heart and mind try to rush ahead as I focus on falling flakes of white coating the ground and overgrown honeysuckle.

Be present. Be here. Breathe in the moment.

But even moments of snowy Saturday shalom shatter, as siblings argue over episodes, nerves fray, and plans change.

Quiet reflection and introspection last all of five minutes before knocks on the door interrupt asking for any number of things ranging from help reaching a cereal bowl to permission to open the new vitamins which I mindlessly grant and then become frustrated by the fact that there are two different kinds of vitamins now in use.

So in the rest, there is also disruption. In the stillness, there is noise. In the calm, there is chaos. In the falling snow, there is invitation.

Invitation to change. To engage. To rest. To be.

You are invited to enjoy your day! I am off to be present in mine, even though things USED to be FUN around here before all of these CHORES and having to put things AWAY that we are going to need later ANYWAY.

Because even in the midst of the rest, there is work to be done. Living in the tension, I tell ya!

In a Good Way

I’m going to struggle though in a good way, she said hopefully, as a buttered English muffin was placed next to her and hot coffee poured into her mug.

So began Monday morning, a snow day, a day home with the children, and birthday of child five.

Kirk's birthday

He got a day off for his twelfth birthday. How exciting! Child six, who turns 10 on Thursday, may not get such a gift, but she is the one who got a card in the mail today!

Legos

So she struggled through yoga and finishing the Christmas card project and the entering of countless addresses into her laptop. She struggled through the transition from episode pick to play time to lunch and quiet time.

Legos

She had a meaningful phone conversation. Two of them, actually.

She rested.

She soaked in the tub.

She baked a cookie cake and rotated laundry and texted with her son.

cookie cake

She let go of all of the shoulds that tried to drag her down and just did what she wanted to.

And a little bit of what she needed to but mostly what she wanted.

She struggled in a good way today.

All the way to the end.