Nothing in life brings out my conflicting adult vs. child internal battle like snow does.
I love snow. I mean, I love it. The joy starts when I see the word snow pop up on the weather forecast, and doesn't end until the snow melts to that mostly grass and brown plowed snow stage.
I hate snow. It drives me crazy. The anxiety starts when I see the word snow pop up on the weather forecast, and it doesn't end until the streets are clear.
This internal battle results in me obsessively checking my weather app every hour hoping that the forecast will change. Every time I check, I hope that they are lowering the forecast amount so I can get to work. If it is lowered, I'm disappointed because I want lots and lots of snow. If it's not lowered, then I worry about that dwindling sick/vacation time balance I'm trying to manage. I really, really want a foot of snow that doesn't land on the roads.
The storm that blew through last night gave us about 3.5 inches. That's enough to cause a late start for schools, but not enough for my office to even bother with the special, "the office is open" message because we all know the company doesn't close for 3.5 inches of snow.
That means that I was supposed to be at work at 7:00 am, but Michael's daycare didn't open until 10:30. What to do, what to do? Take the hit to my vacation time and stay home with Michael. I'm sure we could have gotten in a good hour or more in the snow. Or, call my mom and see if she could take Michael at some point before 10:30 so I could try and save a few vacation hours.
When we got up at 6:00, I was leaning towards staying home. Michael loves playing in the snow, and there was enough outside for sledding.
At 6:16, Michael started talking. And talking. And talking. And OMG DID YOU DRINK SOME OF MY COFFEE?
By 7:00 I had made my decision. Turns out that it's really nice and quiet in my office on snowy days.