Mostly Wordless Wednesday

When it rains it pours.

Punked

Dear Mother Nature,

Clap..............clap..............clap.

Bravo. Well played. Point Mother Nature. I see what you did today, your humor is not lost on me. I can appreciate a good prank. But, it kinda feels like you've won on a technicality. To be fair, I did only request for you to change the weather, which you did. At present there is zero snow accumulation outside my front door. Don't get me wrong, I am very grateful for this. I was dreading the shoveling and the wet snowboots cluttering the entrance to my home. But it feels like I was played. You changed the weather like it was one giant mood swing. Are you pmsing? Because if you are, just say so and I'll completely understand. You caused a lot of inconviences today constantly making it appear as it was going to snow any minute. Have a look at just one tiny example, three emails I received today.

Just think about all those poor moms who were waiting and praying swim lessons were canceled, all for naught. They still had to deal with the cold wet weather you provided. As a mother yourself, you should be ashamed. I lost my lunch bunch day, never to be gotten back. It's just gone. Dust in the wind. And to top it off, I didn't even get to Instagram adorable pictures of my child frolicking in the inches of snow you promised.

You may have won this time, but you can bet your ass I'll be bitching in the August heat.

Sincerely,

Nelly

 

P.S. If you skip spring and go straight to summer, there will be hell to pay.

Dear Mother Nature

Dear Mother Nature,

I am writing to you today with a request, a favor if you will. You have been such a kind mother the past few months, it's probably not proper for me to even be asking, but if you can find it in your heart to honor my request this one time, I will not ask for anything else.

This is what is predicted, but I know you have it within you to change the future. If you felt it was right, you could spare us from the snow. See, oh wise goddess, tomorrow is lunch bunch for Alice at school. Which translates into an extra two and a half hours of "me" time every Wednesday. If you decide to continue on with your winter weather plan, I will not only lose the extra two and a half hours, but with Alice home from school, I will lose productivity for the entire day. You, being a mother, must know what a snow day does to one's house.

In addition, you have blessed us with a few warm days recently. I know it's only early March and those lucky days were just a tease of the future. However, it does seem wrong to regress so severely. After all, you sent the signal to nature. You told them spring was on its way. It doesn't seem fair to the tulips and daffodils to force them to suffer through snow. Surely their beautiful blooms will be affected. Everywhere you look are signs of spring. People's attitudes have been lifted with the hope of warmer days filled with time outdoors, enjoying your beautiful handiwork. You don't want to be responsible for bouts of depression, do you?

Mother Nature, if look down deep within your heart I'm sure you will see a simple weather change really would be in our best interest. If you do this for me tonight, I will not gripe about the heat and humidity in August. I promise. But, if for some reason you do not choose to honor my request, I will do my best to enjoy the beauty you bestow upon us, with minimal complaints. I will watch my girl make snow angel after snow angel. I will listen to the delight in her laughter as she throws snow balls for Marley to catch. I will savor four year old Alice playing in the snow because before I know it she will no longer be little.

Thank you in advance for your graciousness,

Nelly

 

Picking Friends

"Mama? Which friends did I take to school yesterday?" Alice asked me as we were preparing to leave for school.

"I don't know. Alice. Please put your shoes on, I don't want to be late."

"MAAAMA I have to pick my friends."

This conversation, or a variation of, can be overheard in my house five days a week. There is great consideration put into the decision. "Friend" picking is an art form. I feel I must stop myself and clarify for those who have no idea what I'm talking about. To Alice, dolls, barbies, babies, and most importantly in her eyes, princesses of varying size are her friends. She refers to herself as their Mama, though from the way it sounds she's more like their dictator. Anyway, she is allowed to bring a friend or two in the car for the ride to school and can bring one into school for the day.

A lot goes into picking friends. Somedays it's a breeze, the favorite doll of the day accompanies her. Other mornings it's as stressful as picking a presidential running mate, or so I imagine.

"I DON'T KNOW WHO TO PICK," she whines at me when I'm rushing her along.

There are mornings when she stews and worries over which doll hasn't been fortunate enough to visit school yet or which Barbie can't possibly come because they've been too grumpy and need to take a nap while she's gone. And then there are the times when she's selected the lucky winner but can't find the obvious partner to join them. "How can Rapunzel possibly leave Flynn Ryder at home?" Or, "it wouldn't be fair to Cherry Jam if Strawberry Shortcake gets to come and she doesn't! We just have to find Cherry Jam." I've grown used to the morning selection process, but every now and again she shocks me. Seemingly without any rhyme or reason a blast from the past from the bottom of a basket will be the chosen one. Yesterday she took blinking Dora. Blinking Dora has seen better days. She was acquired during Alice's younger, artistic period. Dora has black sharpie eye shadow on her blinking eyelids and the whites of her eyes are now filled in black as well. Her underwear has also been decorated with said sharpie. Dora's hair, which used to be fastened neatly in two pig tails, now flows freely in one big tangled mess. Why Dora, who is never played with these days, was selected is beyond me.

Once we are safely fastened in our seats, there is often more discussion regarding the morning decision.

"Mama? Do you think Merida is jealous of Pocahontas because I didn't pick her?"

"I don't know Alice. Maybe," I tell her.

"She probably is. But Merida has gotten to go to school lots of times. This is Pocahontas's first time. You must be super excited to come into my school, Pocahontas. Just wait till you see my cubby!"

She really is the most adorable kid in the whole entire world.

 

 

Except your kid. I'm sure your kid is equally as adorable.