School is closed again today. God help me. and them.
It started at 5:45am with a 2 hour delay. I was actually stoked about this because I rolled over and got another hour of sleep. Score.
Then I went to up to make sure "Dude" the 12 year old, was getting in the shower. He started in with his, "But it's a 2 hour delay!" He gets notifications on his iTouch so he now believes he knows EVERYTHING.
Yes, it is a 2 hour delay and you slept through yours, get your "butt"(changed the language to protect the not so innocent) in the shower! NOW!
Oh yes, we like to start our days with love and kindness so our children feel the warmth and security that surrounds them as they go off to learn, grow and develop. (whatever)
I go downstairs and take deep cleansing breaths and think through my day. Conference calls at 8:30 and 9:00 - Then I'll squeeze in some yoga before more afternoon conference calls, guitar lessons for Dude at 5 and the girl has a cheerleading gig at 7pm. Nice calm day, some activities to get us out of the house tonight. Yes, I can feel my blood pressure returning to normal.
Then it happens, just as Dude comes down with long wet hair hanging in his face apologizing for arguing with me and getting his act together, my phone beeps with a message.
I pick it up expecting work stuff but no, there it is screaming at me, mocking me, laughing in my face.
SCHOOL IS CLOSED!
I stare at it in disbelief. Closed, what do they mean closed. COME ON, this is getting ridiculous!
By this time the sleepy headed girl has come downstairs too. I make one announcement, "School is closed".
Dude starts screaming and dancing and doing air guitar like he's won a freakin grammy and as is typical, the girl does the exact opposite and starts to cry, "But I braided my hair last night and now no one will see it!" Yes, the girl has discovered the Olivia Newton John rite of passage. Ladies, you know the one, braid the hair in little braids while it's wet the night before and the next morning, WOW, wavy rock star hair. For the record, we do not allow the tight leather pants just yet, she's 8 for God's sake.You have to be at least 12 to get your leather pants in this house.
So, it starts.
Dude rejoicing loudly, the girl crying loudly and I look at my husband and fight back tears.
You see, I work from home. This chaos is now happening in my front lobby of my own office. What other business in the world, other than the Division of Child Services or the BMV, would allow this chaos in the lobby!
I grab my security blanket, I mean my laptop, and go upstairs to my real office and shut the door. As my patience and my productivity hit an all time low, the muffled sounds of Guns N Roses and Open Season 2 mock me just outside.
