Thursday, January 27, 2011
Slower, Softer, and More Beautiful
The snow is wreaking havoc on our carefully constructed schedules. It's hard enough to juggle two full-time jobs and two very active kids attending three separate schools. But throw in the inability to get around by bike and the uncertain threat of school cancellation/delay/dismissal, and you've got yourself a very complicated workweek.
Indeed, yesterday morning brought a dusting of snow, with the threat of more rain and snow throughout the day, and a massive snowfall starting in the evening. I decided to leave the bike at home and take the kids by foot and bus, and Amy would pick Aaron up by car in the evening. Only Aaron's school closed two hours early, which meant I would have to get him and I would have to leave even earlier to do so. (We lucked out with Jada: her school closed, but her after-school program was able to get her early, and they subsequently did not close early.)
Getting to and from Aaron's school by foot or bus is painful and slow, aggravating my already spent patience as I mentally calculated how much was piling up for me and how little time I would have to get to it all. And, with last night's snowfall shipwrecking schools today, it's looking like a long day at home with both kids with me, trying desperately to juggle a full plate of work to-do's with two increasingly stir-crazy kids, all the while worrying about whether Amy will be safe on the roads. It's enough to pine for the other months of the year, when snow's not a factor and you can deal with your already crazy life without the nuisance and wild card that the white stuff represents.
Here's the thing about snow, though. It makes things really pretty. It's another story at the end of the day, when it's gotten dirtied by footprints and tire treads. But first thing in the morning, it makes everything slower and quieter. And maybe, just maybe, slower and softer and more beautiful is just what our psyches need, when we're juggling all we're juggling.
So amidst my gasping for air as I try desperately to not fall too far behind or lose my cool too much shuttling kids hither and thither, I hope I will be able to experience this hidden blessing. And I hope you will, too.