Category Archives: snow

Seriously though…

The groundhog saw his shadow yesterday.

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(Pic courtesy of Sid’s pre-school teachers who sent home this insanely cute groundhog.) Six more weeks of winter, according to Puxatawney Phil, Groundhog in Chief.

A little closer to home: Apparently there is a Staten Island groundhog who did not see his shadow, meaning that Spring is around the corner.

I’ll let the hogs hash it out. I like winter (there, I said it) and am ok with several more weeks.

A few confessions though:

— I have no idea what black ice is. I’ve never seen it and am not sure anyone has. But people like to pepper it into conversation in a knowing, smuggish way. (She was fine until she hit that black ice; watch out for that black ice…) Frankly, I think it’s all a hoax. A smug people hoax.

— I am hungry all the time in the winter. Snow days are basically an excuse for me to eat the entire contents of my fridge, pantry, and Costco overflow while simultaneously slipping on snow the kids have trekked through the house and yelling at children to turn things off.

— As the season of indoor fire, winter makes me nervous. And not surprisingly (given that Hannukah is basically an excuse for my boys to try to set the house aflame), my phone now corrects “season” to “arson.”

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— The longer you spend out of a bathing suit, the more likely you are to look awful in one.

— As a friend pointed out recently, snow days take on a different meaning as an adult. Yes, there is still a frisson of excitement when snow falls, when it’s announced, when the day is stretched out in front of you, but a few hours in when you’ve run out of marshmallows and feel more like a disenfranchised short order cook than a giddy child, when all the things you have to do get pushed off to another day, displacing all sorts of other things you have to do, it’s time to go back to school.

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Filed under children, Flu season, New York City, parenting, snow, weather, winter

Snow shoes, snow day.

It’s that time of year again.

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Which also means this.

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.. Turning my sneakers into show shoes so I can get out and run.

It’s our first snow day of the year and I volunteered to shovel just to get out the house and away from wiping kitchen counters and responding to the near-constant calls for help and attention. To be clear, shoveling snow is yet another thing at which I’m complete rubbish. Still, it beats “she got more than me,”or “he took mine,” or “I tried to spread the jam but it slid off the bagel and onto the floor,” or “I tried to wipe myself and now it’s all over the outside of the bowl,” (How in God’s name does that even happen?”) or my own personal favorite, “I refuse to eat a bagel with seeds.”

I’m attempting to enforce some child labor (their words) around here. Oldest child made crepes last night and then I actually made him clean up (no, that is not what I’m for).

Him: “hey, this is really cool. What do you call it?”

Me: “a dish rack.”

My work is long, people.

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Filed under New York City, parenting, snow, weather, winter

London.

Truly my happy place. Here with the boys for the bar mitzvah of the son of one of my dearest pals.

The event was this morning. Forgot to pack deodorant. Had to use Bennett’s.
They served fish balls in synagogue which I ate with reckless abandon.

So I spent much of the day reeking of Axe deodorant and chopped and fried fish.

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Despite all that, the trip is a big success so far. Traveling with the boys is almost luxurious. True, they spend the entire time worrying that their “devices” will run out of battery (chill kids, it isn’t a pacemaker); but they also carry my luggage.

Tradeoffs…

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Filed under children, parenting, snow, travel, Uncategorized

Sprung.

Some signs of Spring could not be more welcome.

My favorite flowers are out and about…

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Other are less welcome. Spring = Passover, which = an inordinate amount of preparation for eight days of unceasing constipation. I actually like the holiday. A lot. I just don’t like the feeling of dread that precedes it.

That feeling began last week. I was lying in bed, still in the clutches of the stomach flu, when Bennett came home from school and asked me two questions, neither of which put me at ease:

1. Where do you keep the flour?
2. How hot does the oven get?

It turns out that someone had taught them how to bake matzoh at school. He knew there were two ingredients – flour and water – and that the ratio was 2 to 1. I told him I thought it was likely that the two parts were flour. (This represents the beginning and the end of my baking expertise.)

Minutes later I was presented with this::

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Spring apparently also = baseball, which is not a sport given much shrift chez nous. This is quite fortunate because it’s about as compelling as dry rot. But it seems that Spring in NYC means I have to see a lot of these:

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Yankee fans — what’s with this oversized bumper sticker? Do you really need to be LARGER than all the other bumper stickers? I even saw one on the back of a Mini Cooper and the thing took up the ENTIRETY of the rear window. Is it really worth sacrificing safety to alert everyone in a two mile radius that you are a fan? Are we compensating for something that I don’t know about? (I have no allegiances, but I have noticed that these enormo-decals are on the backs of the cars driven by some of the more obnoxious NYC drivers. Discuss.)

These stickers remind me of those similarly wankerish oversized polo logos:polo

I want to smack the parent of every child I see in one of these. Really? Do they need to see signs of your affluence from space?

I envision a Venn Diagram of all owners of the bumpers stickers and polo shirts. Other than wankerism, what’s the common ground?

Discuss.

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Filed under baking, children, middle school, moving, NBA, snow

Ski Bum

I came to skiing later in life, at least later then my kids did. I first skied very unmemorably in college on some awful, icy mountain in Massachusetts while my roommates looked on in astonishment and my shocking lack of coordination.

I skied again after Bennett was born. This time I wisely took a lesson, and even more wisely, I skied out west. But then I took off ten years to birth and nurse. (In terms of skiing, this was pretty much the Lost Decade.)

By this time the kids were all significantly better then I will ever be, and I do not exaggerate.

I will never be fearless enough to ski well. Given my penchant for puffy winter wear, I will never turn heads in my snazzy ski gear (I look like the abominable snowman, only in pink.) And thanks to a certain distaste for riding things that move, I will never (and of this I am certain) not feel like vomiting when it’s time to get off the ski lift.

But I get to be alone at the top of a mountain and for a few hours, nobody is asking anything of me.

Oh, and I also get to see this:

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Filed under parenting, snow, sports, winter

Panic Provisions

My eleven year old and his dad had to watch their team lose the Superbowl last night. Even I could tell that it was not a pretty game, and I foresaw a particular ugly Monday morning ahead of us. (Watching sporting events on the east coast is especially exhausting because they don’t get started until about six, which is precisely when I start to shut down.)

Fortunately for all of us, we awoke to a snow day.

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(That’s the Hudson you see peeking through the trees.)

In my Superbowl euphoria, I had apparently missed all weather forecasts because this snow storm, which looks to have dumped close to a foot of snow, took me by complete surprise.

I asked M to stop at Fairway on the way home from work and pick up some things we needed.

I forgot to specify quantities.

I should not have forgotten to specify quantities because now I have forty-two bananas.

I tried to inquire in what I thought was a non-threatening tone. (Apparently I do not have a non-threatening tone.)

He claims that he intentionally picked out four bunches of bananas, each bunch at a different stage of ripeness.

But the light at Fairway is a tricky business, because in our kitchen, all the bananas were an identical shade of yellow-green.

Which means I’m going to be stuck with 30 brown bananas in a matter of days. (I will freeze them, you know, to make banana bread. I will then throw them out a week later to make room in the freezer. Intention is everything.)

“I guess I’m going to be eating a lot of bananas,” said M.

I guess you will be.

(Consequently, I have sixty five sticks of string cheese if anyone is interested.)

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Filed under children, food, footall, New York City, parenting, snow, weather, winter

My Mustache Mirror

Pulled out of the garage and slid on some ice right into the basketball hoop, tearing off my left side mirror.

I blame the ice, but it really happened because Sidney was yelling at me, and had been for about an hour.

This three year old is killing me. And she’s seriously cramping my style. A minivan is bad enough.

And now this? (Only duct tape I could find)

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Filed under children, parenting, snow, winter