I’m Snover It

The snowpocalypse that first dumped 32” on us last weekend is now back for more. The last time I bothered listening to the talking head weather people, I think the expected totals were another 10-20”. This morning, I heard Drew mumbling something about a blizzard warning. Looking out the window I can barely make out the 4 ft high piles of snow through the white out of blowing flakes, so perhaps the mumbler knows what he’s talking about. Well today anyway.

To say I have cabin fever would be equivalent to saying that New Orleans is pleased to have won the Super Bowl. These kids are driving me bananas. Chase with his near constant repetition of the phrase, “What are we going to do now?” and Amaya with her finely-tuned trouble locating SONAR activated. Plus, I’m getting kind of bored ya’ll.
Which is why I went to the trouble of making Amaya’s lunch all pretty the other day. I was trying to entertain my brain a bit instead of just slapping the sandwich down on a paper towel per my usual habit.

I know a lot of moms do bento boxes for their kids because it makes the food more enticing for little finicky eaters. I’m all for exerting the effort if it means you can get a picky kid to consume food without that pesky knock down, drag out fight. Of course when it comes to my daughter, that just isn’t necessary. Child is a bottomless pit. 

And that’s not just opinion, I have facts to back it up. Facts that were acquired at her 18 month well baby visit. The appointment that required I have the harrowing experience of driving on winter roads that varied from bare blacktop to slush field to arctic tundra while Chase was in the backseat endlessly practicing his single sentence monologue. Picture it: “What are we going to do now, Chase? Well we’re going to try to make it home alive, that’s what we’re going to do. And if we do survive, we’re going to put the keys to the cars away where they won’t be seen again until spring. That’s what we’re going to do now.”  White knuckles is just the tip of that unnavigable iceberg.

You see then how important these numbers are to me, right?
Height: 33.5”, 90%
Weight: 30.1lbs, 96%
I kid you not—she weighs the same as her brother who is two years older. Which isn’t surprising when you consider that no amount of food fandangoing I do will convince Chase to eat anything other than waffles, fruit snacks and chocolate milk. Then factor in the calories he burns questioning me about the day’s agenda and you get a kid destined to be on the scrawny side. The plus to this is that our snowed-in food rations will last longer. How’s that for a silver lining?