I really dislike winter. I’ve never been a fan of it. Cold weather just hurts my whole body, and the lack of sun makes me cranky. It’s even worse now that I have kids because I have two excessive balls of energy in my house, dying to go outside, yet not understanding that Mommy wants to hibernate until temperatures reach at least 60 degrees (which luckily means I might enjoy being outside today if it’s not raining). We do go outside a lot during the winter. They play in the snow or chase each other in the freezing cold, all while I quickly grab some wood for the fire and retire inside to watch them from the window.
Two weeks ago it was icy and cold, and our yard is hilly, surrounded by an electric fence. To eliminate the chance of one of my boys sliding down the hill, right smack dab into one of those fences, I decided it was a good time to stay indoors for the day.
It was a short argument at breakfast as they looked outside and thought everything was covered in snow. I had to explain that it was ice and not as fun as snow. Once that catastrophe was sorted out, I then had to break the news that we weren’t going bowling as planned because the roads were slick. It’s a good idea to get all the fits out of the way at once, and if it turns into one massive fit, then be optimistic. Throwing a tantrum takes a lot of energy, so it may result in an early bedtime. It didn’t work for me this time, but sometimes, once in a blue moon, it does work in my favor.
I saved the day by getting out the plastic bowling set, which my older son promptly ignored all day even though he was the one mad about not going to the bowling alley. I will assume that his tantrum was more about the friends he was going to see at the bowling alley rather than the actual bowling, or possibly the pretty girl from his class that he would have seen, but I don’t want to admit that yet. He said he was going to marry me when he grew up, so I’m sticking with that.
The youngest bowled for a while but got fed up with the domino effect he’d create by accidentally bumping one pin just as he'd gotten them all set up and would swiftly throw them all over the living room in anger. We painted and colored for a lot of the day. They had sword fights until they both ended up in tears saying the other hit him or poked him in the eye.
Luckily, most of the day was saved by the costume box. Anytime I see a costume at a garage sale, I get it for the costume box, and the $1 cow costume I purchased last year was definitely worth the investment. Just like the little farm boys they are, they took turns pretending they were a cow or the cattleman working his cows. The cow would just run around on all fours being bad, but the cattleman had his work cut out for him.
He had to lock the cow up in different locations around the house. Apparently, the whole house was a corral but each room had a different purpose. The cow had to be milked so one was the milking parlor. The cow also had to be fed, given shots and wormer, and loaded on a trailer (which was just the recliner).
Thanks to recently witnessing their aunt (who’s a veterinarian) dehorn a cow that had some very large horns, they’ve been consumed by the danger and gore of that situation, so the little cattleman had to dehorn his angry cow as well.
For a short while, they also played matador and bull because they recently watched Ferdinand.
I had to cut this time short though. They were playing so nice, but as I was cleaning up from lunch, I heard one say that it was time to “cut off the cow’s nuts.”
Ugh! They see and hear too much and copy whatever we do. I tried to tell them it’s more polite to say castrate and that it’s probably not a good idea to pretend in that much detail anyway, but they were laughing hysterically over the word “nuts” and no one was hearing me over their giggles.
It was nap time anyway. As I tried to remove the cow costume and cowboy gear, gather books and wrangle my monsters for story time, the oldest was chasing the youngest around the house while they screamed “Nuts!” “Nuts!” “Nuts!”
I guess it’s better than watching television all day. Don’t think I’m above that! Nope! I am not above that. The Lion King is, as we speak, in the DVD player waiting for the moment when I’ve been all the mom that I can be. Thankfully, on this icy, indoor day, the costume box and farm knowledge did all the work for me. I can save television for another day.