Classy Chaos

Sunday night my husband and I dove into bed, exhausted after driving home in a blizzard.  Leaving piles of laundry and mountains of gifts sprinkled throughout our family room.  "I will get to it tomorrow."  I whispered, shortly after tucking three children into their beds.

Tomorrow came, as promised.  The blizzard followed us home, as expected.

I had no machinery to help me tackle the piles and mountains inside my home but my own two hands.  In between tearing plastic ties free from the packaging of Barbies and downloading songs into new ipods, to keep the children home-from-school somewhat occupied, I tended to the natural disaster that was accumulating inside.  Grueling physical work of tending house after the holidays mixed with the very occasional mental tests of motherhood.  "Stop arguing!"  "Go to your room and shut the door!"  "That's special to her, leave her alone and she will stop screaming!"  "Calm down!"  "I am going to vacuum everything on this floor!"  "If you tease her one more time, I will...."  "Everyone!  Chill out."  "That's yours.  This is hers."  My hands tore through the air directing sibling traffic.

We followed the blizzard outside, as needed.

It was the first time I sat down in what seems like days.  I hijacked a wooden sled that was sturdy enough to withstand a mother after the holidays and peacefully observed my children play together in a silent neighborhood.

The snow belonged to all of us. For hours.