Along about 3:00 yesterday, #2 son began calling me to say that there would be no school today, so could he spend the night at a friend’s house. I said no, no sleepovers on school nights.
There were several more calls, with weather report updates and good news about his grades and — this was my favorite — rising percentages of certainty about school’s being canceled.
By the time I got home and was zooming around getting ready for choir, my admiration of his technique had reached its zenith. There it intersected with that frazzled “ask your dad, I can’t think right now” feeling, and I gave in.
#1 son saw his chance, and suggested that he should stay over with a friend who lived really close to the school. He is not allowed to drive in the snow until his dad can give him some lessons on the subject, and his vehicle is unreliable in cold weather, so I agreed to that, too, as I raced off.
We had a low of 8 degrees, which is weather fit for neither man nor beast, but we only have a very little bit of snow, and I doubt that schools will be closed. I intend to drive bravely off to work. I also intend to skip the gym and work out at home. For one thing, I will have the house to myself once my husband leaves at 6:30. This is such a rare event that it makes sense to savor it. I intend to enjoy the quiet.
Coming back to say I was wrong — the schools are indeed closed.
We had the last rehearsal before our Big Music last night. I was so thankful that the snow held off, and I expect that the director was, too. “Jesus Christ is Coming” is one of the pieces we’re doing. It is a traditional tune from the Haya people of Tanzania. We’re doing several African pieces this Christmas. This is a very sprightly little song, and you could learn it real quick from the recording and just go around humming it all day today.
I am not going to skip my workout today — I am going to do a dance workout DVD. I went to the gym yesterday and did my stepped-up cardio routine. I did not eat properly.
I am now going to trot out my excuses, in the spirit of awareness and accountability, so feel free to go read something more exciting.
My menfolks wanted bacon and eggs for breakfast. I skipped the bacon, but had eggs and toast with them. Though we have plenty of frozen, canned, and dried fruits, there was no fresh fruit sitting around and I felt too rushed to prepare anything. Dropped off my kid at school, went to the gym, ran home and changed, and went to work. Book Club took up my lunch hour, so I had a bagel at the coffee shop where we meet. Probably not whole grain, let’s face it, even if it was vaguely brown, and not a balanced meal. A late customer meant I left the store late. My husband had made dinner by the time I got home — baked chicken and baked potato, no other vegetable. I gratefully ate it and rushed off to choir, where they gave us bacon to take home. I got home hungry and had sorbet, because — well, it was there, wasn’t it?
Now, it might be worthwhile to subsist on meatitude and sweetitude if it were delicious holiday goodies. But in fact I was rushing around all day, eating whatever was near me at mealtimes. Clearly, taking a little time in the morning would make all the difference. I could have had fruit and yogurt with my egg, made a whole grain and veg sandwich to eat on the walk over to Book Club, and left lentil soup in the crockpot and salad in the fridge to round out my husband’s chicken. Today, I will do just that with the time I save on driving.