Wailing and Gnashing of Teeth
March 1, 2006 at 5:05 I still remember learning the saying, “March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb” when I was in kindergarten. My teacher explained what it meant and then helped us make posters with the phrase and images of a lion and a lamb. Why was this so memorable? Because I got to cover the lamb in cotton balls and this was an artistic breakthrough for me. I may have even colored some cotton balls brown and put them on the lion’s mane.
Well I may have changed over the years but March hasn’t. It certainly came in like a lion for us. We awoke to howling winds and a blanket of snow this morning.
Belgium’s winter weather this year has proved to be remarkably consistent. Since mid-November, temps have pretty much topped out in the mid- to upper-30s during the day and bottomed out in the lower 30s overnight. Sunny or cloudy, windy or not, there hasn’t been much variation in temperature. And much to my children’s disappointment, there hasn’t been a snowfall with any significant accumulation all winter. The snow might appear in a flurry but it rarely stuck to the ground. At best we’d get a dusting of white which E-Grrrl and Mr. A would scoop off of every flat surface they could find and form anemic looking snowballs to pitch at each other.
But yesterday it snowed all day, alternating between tiny snowflakes the size of raindrops to big dramatic snowflakes that looked more like snowdrops. The snow melted as soon as it hit the ground, but around 3 p.m., in a blowing whirlwind of giant flakes, it started to stick. E-Grrrl and Mr. A were so excited when they got home from school. They quickly grabbed hats and mittens and began lobbing snowballs over the fence at the little boys next door.
They played for an hour, and then the snow stopped. During dinner, we got a little rain. The forecast was calling for snow all over Germany but nothing significant in Brussels, yet overnight we got enough to thoroughly cover the grass and the roads, probably 3 inches. This is enough to close schools in Virginia (and all you Yankees who live with snow from November through April can quit your snickering, OK?).
In the event of bad weather, we’d been told to call the military police’s automated line to learn whether school was closed. E dialed the number at 6:30 a.m. and heard a message that said road conditions were “red,” meaning dangerous, don’t drive if you don’t have to. So E assumed that meant school was out and told the kids. They had been up since 5 a.m. because they were SO excited about the snow and were planning a day of outdoor play and indoor computer games, popcorn and hot chocolate.
Where was V-Grrrl while all this transpired? In bed, of course. You didn’t expect me to separate myself from the flannel sheets a moment before I had to, did you? Snow day! I was planning to stay in my bathrobe all morning.
Well at 7:30 a.m., the time we’re normally loading backpacks, brushing teeth, and heading toward the bus stop, I did drag myself out of bed to see if E-Man was heading into work. “No school?” I ask E. And he tells me about the recording.
Hmmm. What was the story here? Was school cancelled?
So I call the phone number myself and the recording says that at 7 a.m., road conditions had been updated to “amber,” meaning use caution. Well? Did the kids have school or not?
A quick call to the school and I learn the ugly truth: school is indeed open.
Of course, I expected the kids to be disappointed, but I didn’t expect them to fall apart on us. When I told them to get dressed for school, they both burst into tears and began to wail. I hadn’t seen them this upset since their hamster died last summer.
E-Grrrl, her eyes pink and swollen and her face streaked with tears, climbed back into her bed and refused to get out. Mr. A, his shoulders shaking with sobs, could not be pried out of the computer chair.
And no, they didn’t compose themselves after a few minutes and accept their fate. E-Man and I had to physically pull them from their lockdown positions and actually dress them and get them on their feet.
And in that moment I HATED myself. Hated being a responsible mom. Wished so much that I was an easy-going, free-spirited type who would let her kids skip school and play in the only snowfall of the season. But I was worried about setting a precedent that would lead to endless fights every snowy day in the future. Plus Mr. A has a test tomorrow and he hadn’t brought his book home to study for it last night. Tonight is our last chance to prepare him for it, and his grades aren’t such that he can afford to go into a test cold.
So with great regret and lingering guilt, E-Man and I loaded our broken-hearted offspring into the car and he drove them to school. It felt like sending lambs to the slaughterhouse.
© 2006 Veronica McCabe Deschambault. All rights reserved.
March 1, 2006
Reader Comments (10)
Hopefully the sun won't shine too hard so there will be some snow left for them to play in when they come back from learning...
Here's hoping that will be the only and last snowstorm of the year for you though. I know you are as ready for spring as I am.
We are hitting 82 in Houston today! My kids would die for a little snow.
I'm so glad to hear from you. I was disappointed and perplexed yesterday when I learned you'd taken flight, relieved this morning to see you're back. I hope being unmasked was not too traumatic.
BTW, I can't comment on your new site because I don't have a Blogger username and password. I always used the "Others" category to generate comments.