Snow Days

Ah, snow days.

We've read every board book in our house.  We've pushed shapes through the shape sorter approximately 174 times.  We've made multiple pots of homemade chicken soup.  We made playdough.  We fingerpainted, and have the carpet stains to prove it.  We have run through the "Baby Music" playlist to the point that Hannah is beginning to know songs by heart.  I took naps.  A walk around the block was the outing for the day for several days in a row.

As a working mom, I delight in extra time with my babe.  If I had my way, though, our extra time would be spent out with friends, at the park, at the Zoo, or using our new membership to the Children's Museum.  We would not be stuck in our one bedroom apartment the whole time.

But I'm glad we were.  I believe boredom, stir-craziness, cabin fever or whatever name you give it is a spiritual challenge, a purgatory of sorts.  Hannah caught me on several occasions sneaking computer time, or making a phone call, or in some way taking my attention off of her.  She is a toddler, and she let me know exactly how she felt about it.  Her leg pulling and protests were like an alarm bell, warning me of two things: 1) I'm letting something I long for - more time with Hannah - pass me by and 2) I can do those things later. 

The antsy-ness I feel when cooped up for days is a testament to my usually frantic nature.  I multitask at a frequency that far exceeds anything that could be considered normal throughout each moment of each day of my normal week.  On the weekends, when the weather is not making national news, I'm out and about doing something every second that I can.  There is always a shape to the day, somewhere to be, something to do.

The shapelessness of the past week has helped me to see how addicted I am to doing, ironic when my ongoing goal is to focus on being.  When I'm really crawling out of my skin to get out and do something, and yet I'm held down in a shapeless day, I see something about my nature that I don't particularly like.  It's the same thing I see when I'm in savasana at the end of yoga class and my thoughts get frantic and racing.  It's a horns-locked struggle against the present moment, that elusive place I both yearn for and run from.

Today I went to yoga, sweet relief from cabin fever.  Hannah and I went to the library, the grocery store and to get a copy of her birth certificate.  It was nice to be out of the house, yes, but I found myself quickly yearning for the warmth and comfort of home as an antidote to the busyness - and currently, the knee deep slush - of the city.



I've had a few moments this week when I've given into "boredom" and brought myself fully into the present, to the delight of my little one.  Having my face painted with flour, or singing Ring Around the Rosie with a tambourine on my hip, falling into a giggling heap with Hannah at the end of the song, I saw something in myself that I do like.  I believe we can make each moment, no matter where we are or what is happening, as peaceful, rich and joyful as we choose to.

Monday morning will come, and with it, a return to a challenging, rewarding and tiring routine.  I hope that I can find the shapelessness, presence and stillness of a snow day when it feels like life is moving way too fast.