We had a snow day, like a freeze your ass off if you go anywhere but you can’t because it’s currently dumping four feet of snow everywhere sort of snow day.  I took pictures because I thought it would be nice just to look at pictures in a post, like how I documented our Christmas decorations last week.

Then, I started editing the photos and decided they were shitty because the back porch is a mess.  Why do we have a wooden Melissa and Doug knife on the floor?  There are spaghetti stains on my stove and clearly I spent too much of my camera’s memory card trying to capture steam rising from a pot (where I’m pretty sure there were Ramen noodles cooking).

But that was our snow day and this is our life and it is not shitty.

I was talking to some women last night who were pondering how in the moment they were during the season.  The general consensus was that no, we are not.  On our shoulders, we feel the responsibility to make everything perfect and memorable for our families during this time of year.

And my kids are so young.  How much of this Christmas are they really going to remember?  I can recall only snippets of each holiday season when I was a child.  But I’m still trying to achieve perfection which is ridiculous because preschoolers and toddlers are impulsive and whimsical and natural destroyers of best laid plans.  As it should be.

My documentation of our snow day shows a messy home.  When I ask my son what we did that day he says “We built a Frosty.” My daughter knows how to say “popcorn” now.

Enjoy your 25th.