I'm Lindsay Ferrier, a Nashville writer with a passion for family travel, exploring Tennessee, and raising kids without losing my mind in the process. This is where I share my discoveries, along with occasional deep thoughts, pop culture tangents and a sprinkling of snark. Want to get in touch? Use the CONTACT form at the top of the page.
March 6, 2015
Yep. This is how we roll.
This school week ended with 4 inches of snow and two more snow days- bringing our total snow day count to TEN in just three weeks.
While yesterday (Snow Day 9) was mostly lovely and friends came over and everyone stayed busy and happy, as soon as those friends left and I begged my son to let me sit at my computer uninterrupted for ten minutes, TEN MINUTES IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK, and answer a few e-mails without being ask-told to set up our ancient Playstation 2/ sew shut the hole in Peep the Penguin/ fetch Goldfish crackers/milk/that game on the highest shelf of the playroom closet, he can’t remember what it looks like or what it’s called but HE KNOWS IT’S THERE GET IT GET IT GET IT– just as soon as I pleaded with my son and (finally) took a seat before my sadly neglected laptop…
And this, my friends, is an experience I don’t wish on anyone.
However, today is a new (snow) day. I’ve had eight blessed hours of uninterrupted sleep and I woke this morning with something I haven’t had in nearly a month:
I have HOPE, ladies, because lately, my mailbox has been stuffed with signs of a brighter future to come– a future I want to, have to, believe in.
Witness the prophecies as I share them with you now…
I believe that one day soon, a blinding orb shall appear in the sky and bathe us in its warmth for more than a couple of hours. And lo, its intensity shall cause us to wear these funny things over our eyes called sunglasses. And we shall convince our husbands that only Chanel sunglasses adequately protect our delicate lady eyes from this glorious star, and he shall agree because what’s a mortgage when it comes to our freaking lady eyes?
I believe that we shall soon cast aside our woolen boot socks and Hunter boots. OH YES WE SHALL. We shall place healing balm on our crusty feet and paint our toes AND WE SHALL WEAR SANDALS. And it shall feel glorious (at least for the first 45 minutes or so)!!!
Yea, though we walk through the valley of the shadow of snowdrifts, I believe a time shall soon come when it is warm enough outside to wear shorts. Shorts, people. Get thee to a drugstore for some Jergens Natural Glow posthaste.
I believe the warm weather will make us forget all about our bulging discs and our rotator cuff tears, and we shall stand on paved surfaces and toss our children around like ragdolls. And we shall wear mixed prints while doing it, because apparently mixed prints, like leggings-as-pants, are NEVER GOING AWAY.
I believe that we shall trade our things that are black and gray and gray and gray for things that are pink, and that pink shall match the color of the strange and beautiful things we shall see growing in trees and in window baskets and around mailboxes. And the other mothers shall whisper that the fabulous pink shift dress we paid too much for at Nordy’s is too short for a PTO meeting and we shall smile sweetly at them and visualize Taylor Swift and Shake Them Off.
And then we shall Vaguebook about them when we get home that night.
I believe we shall be inspired by this wondrous balmy clime to spend way too much money on designer children’s clothing, because– SPRING. And because we’ve spent so much, our children shall either a) wear their SPRING outfit twice, then proclaim it “too itchy” and never wear it again, or b) get Sharpie pen on it within 24 hours of its purchase.
I believe that our husbands shall also fall prey to Spring’s spell and procure for themselves pastel jackets and floral shorts and…
Okay. Actually, I don’t believe this part at all. Oracles aren’t always right, you know…
But the rest of it? TOTALLY. After all, look what I saw in the snow this morning.
It’s really, really coming.
START. MOISTURIZING. NOW.