Escapism, mommy style

Its been a rough morning. My lovely daughter was apparently NOT ready to get out of bed, and proceeded to whine-speak. I do not speak whine, do not even attempt to understand it.

There is something about a child's whine that akin to driving a white hot fork into my eye socket. An excruciating pain develops behind my left eye, my right eye begins to twitch, and the yell-center of my brain (yes, there is one - its related to the eyes in the back of my head) is switched to "on".

Sam saw how much fun Maddie's whine appeared to be, and he thought he'd join the fun. So what did I do?

In a proud parenting moment, I turned on PBS Kids, and went outside to clear the driveway of the freshly fallen snow. By hand.

Cheap trick to prolong a moment of solitude, yes. However, what struck me, once my blood pressure lowered, was how profoundly silent it was. The sky was overcast, the snow was light and sparkly, and there was that blessedly peaceful sound of nothing but the snow crunching underfoot.

Try as I might, I couldn't still my busy brain, but I tried my hardest to enjoy it before the next round of snow boots and coat battles begun.

So take you moment while you can. Today, I tried to recall that quiet crunching sound of snow under my boots every time the kids lit up the annoyance board. Its almost working.

Well, that, and a healthy dose of Lexapro.