My husband went to an S&M pub in London

If you did a double take at that title, so did I when he told me. Apparently, S&M in the UK is not quite so shocking. S&M is Sausage and Mash--you have your choice of sausage and mashed potatoes. I thought they called that Bangers and Mash, but I suppose B&M sounds even worse.

Brian was in London for about a week. It was a long, hard trip for him and the 5-hour time difference made talking together almost impossible. But he did get to walk around London on the Sunday he arrived.

Here at home, we had ANOTHER Nor'easter, but I guess Spring is coming after all, since despite constant snow and strong winds, the snow didn't stick as much. The kids still milked another early release on Thurs. and a snow-day on Friday. They will probably have to go to school until August to make up for all these snow days but no one was complaining now.

Tritan went on the Klondike this weekend. I've decided Scouting is designed as much to prepare parents as the scouts to send them out into the world. The last thing I wanted to do was to send Tritan out in a Nor'easter on Friday night. But luckily, the leaders changed plans and had them spend the night at a leader's house and drive up to the competition Sat. morning. Tritan said he had a good time, that he especially liked riding on the sled, and eating lunch was his favorite event.

I get bullied by the school nurse

I am finding it much more interesting to follow other people's blogs at the moment. Their lives, while I'm sure stressful, seems much more blog-worthy as they spend weeks at the hospital, buy houses, bring home babies. I always struggle in February--especially in these cold climates. So much of my life seems tied to the weather. My blogs would probably detail the weather--snowy again--raining today-- still cold and damp. I set my thermostat the highest I can finacially and environmentally handle, although I've been known to bump it up when I just can't stand to be cold any longer. (And lest any of you think I am a martyr--it is normally set at 69* and I've been known to slide it up to 74*).
The longer the winter drags on, the more tired I get--hibernation sounds pretty good. My clothes don't match, but I don't care as long as they're warm--my coat covers up my top half anyway. About the only things I'm still passionate about is food--everything tastes freaking fantastic. No matter how resolutely I start out the day to eat sensibly, heathfully--by lunch time, that split pea soup with fried salt pork and creme fraiche is calling my name.
Thank goodness for rituals. As I sleepwalk across the squares of the calendar---(slowly, oh, too slowly, will it ever be March?) at least I have the alarm to wake me up, my morning ritual of wake-Trita-up-make-his-lunch-check-the-weather-get-him-off-to-school-eat-breakfast-while-watching-the-news-read-scriptures-do-yoga-lay-back-in-bed-for-10-min.-get-the-rest-of-the-kids-up....you get the idea. Over the years, I've developed a ritual for just about everything, which I've always kind of thought of as wierd, but now it gets me through my days in a somewhat productive manner. I just need to incorporate blog-writing in these rituals so it will actually get done.
And although we've had basketball games, pinewood derbys, and fabulous recipes to relate, I'll get to those later and tell about how I once again let someone make me question my parenting skills.
This happens to me all the time, and each time it happens, I swear I'm going to stick to my guns and do what I feel is right, but it's so hard to do, especially when the person you're confronting is a professional. It doesn't help that most of the time I'm fighting for doing less for my children than the professional is proposing--(me: "Shouldn't the kids have more recess? What about nap time, shouldn't all day kindergarteners have a nap?" "I really don't think he needs pull-out classes." "I don't think he needs any more surgeries."). This one was just stupid though.
Tritan pointed out his finger just before he left for the bus-stop. It was puffy and looked like he had a blister on the side of his finger. Once I looked at it, I realized it was an infected hang-nail, put a band-aid on it, and told him we would soak it in Epsom salt when he got home. But at school, a teacher asked him why he had a band-aid, and when Tritan explained about his finger the teacher sent him to the nurse. The nurse had him soak his finger and then called me to tell me that he needed an appointment THAT day to see a dr. asap. "Well, we were going to soak it in--" I was going to say Epsom salt but I was cut off and told he needed an appointment TODAY.
So of course I made an appointment even though there were 100 other things going on. Maybe I didn't know anything after all, maybe he would get MERSA, maybe he already had blood poisoning. Surely, a nurse knows more than I do.
It took us an hour in total (and $85 on our high-deductible plan) to see the dr. so he could tell us to go home and SOAK IT IN EPSOM SALT.

A snowy Valentines

Snow, snow, snow! We now have small mountains of the stuff where the snowplows shoved it off the road, and onto the median, or the sidewalk, or wherever they could find a spot. The kids use it for sledding hills, snowboarding practice. Still, with those blessed snow days piling up just before Valentines, the holiday itself almost got buried and forgotten.
The kids had school on Friday, although it was only a half day, so they could have their Valentine's parties and exchange cards. After being cozily house-bound for a couple of days, we realized that while we had bread and eggs, we didn't have Valentines. I fished out the old boxes of leftover Valentines from Years Past, and tried to convince the kids to take those, but they weren't into Care Bears, Transformers, or even Hannah Montana anymore. So Brian took them to CVS (his go-to store for everything) and they managed to find suitable Valentines. Still, I will have to say, there was absolutely no pressure for producing the coolest Valentine this year--just bringing any at all seemed good enough.
I was in charge of Apollo's class party. We played a few games and decorated sugar cookies. On the way home, I asked Apollo if he had fun. "A little bit", he said. Then added, "Maybe next time, I can help you come up with more fun."
Brian even managed to make last-minute reservations at our favorite restaurant and replaced my broken sports watch for Valentines. I didn't have a little red bag for him, but don't feel sorry for him: I let him buy season tickets for the Philadelphia Union soccer team this year--that should cover Valentines, Father's Day, birthday....

Percy Jackson and the Olympians

Of course, we went to The Lightning Thief on Friday. Percy Jackson is as much a hero in our household as he is in the pages of the book. Paris had never read an entire book all the way through before he found Percy Jackson and the Olympians. I had even taken him to the eye doctor to make sure he didn't have the same problems with his eyes that Athena did (convergence insufficiency). But once he found PJ, he stayed up late in the night to finish the books and couldn't wait to read the next one in the series. He was almost as excited to get the final book (The Last Olympian) for Christmas as he was to get his bike.

Once he finished the series he sold the series to anyone who would listen with all the zealous passion of a missionary. He has convinced quite a few kids in his class to read it, and his teacher as well. Everyone in the family(except Apollo) read the first book once they found out a movie was being made--Brian listened to it on his commute when it looked like he wouldn't finish before the release date. He finished reading it the night before we went. Athena and Paris both have started writing "books" based on the Percy Jackson world.

The books are definitely faster paced, funnier, and shorter than the Harry Potter books. Of course, I have always had a soft spot for Greek mythology. The movie is definitely not as true to the books as the Harry Potter movies, and that disappointed Paris a little, but the movie is very good by itself--good storyline, good acting, and only PG.

We had a great time. Thanks for introducing us to Percy Jackson, Paris!

Snow problem

Yes, we are slowly being buried alive by snow. But I still don't mind. We are experiencing our second Nor'easter in 5 days--the 2 feet we got Saturday hadn't melted before the new storm arrived Tuesday night.

We still had church on Sunday, although only a dozen or so families showed up, so I still had to teach my lesson. But this new storm canceled at least one day of jury duty I was scheduled for and I am crossing my fingers that tomorrow will be canceled as well. See, there is always a silver lining....

Apollo volunteered to shovel the driveway. That lasted for about 10 min.

Paris suggested we tie a rope around Apollo so we wouldn't lose him.

They made it and Left out in the cold

It is silently snowing outside, and I am thrilled. It is predicted to add up to 12-15" by the time it is all said and done tomorrow, and again I couldn't be happier. I hope it snows and snows and snows and we can't go anywhere or do anything for at least 2 days. (Then it can melt and we can go back to our lives).

At least Brian and Tritan aren't going camping this weekend. They made it through last weekend's freezing temperatures. I was pretty worried about them weathering temperatures in the teens (wind chill in the single digits). Standing outside for a few minutes while they were packing up, my head got so cold I had a headache. How were they going to survive the night? I should have realized my smart husband wasn't going suffer more than he had to: he bought a propane powered heater that is safe enough to go in your tent, handwarmers, and zero temperature sleeping bags. They made it through the night, but retired to the church to do first aid training after breakfast.

So then Sunday, we took 2 different cars to church because Brian had to drop something off on the way. He took Paris and I took the rest of the kids. We were slightly late and so we hustled in, the kids running ahead, me turning around before I went in to lock the car remotely. Tritan sat with the deacons, Athena found an empty pew, and I slid in to situate myself before church began. I slid my bag under the pew in front of me, and shed my coat. The bishop got up to welcome us to church and I started feeling like something was off. He announced the opening song and prayer and the organ started. I got out the hymnal and found the song. That's when it hit me.

"Where's Apollo?" I asked Athena.

She looked at me with a look that clearly said, You are the Mom, you should know. I looked around. He wasn't sitting with Tritan. He wasn't walking solemnly down the hall from the bathroom. Could he still be in the car?

I bolted from the pew and ran to the foyer just to encounter Apollo struggling to open the church door. He stopped when he saw me, and completely broke down.

"You locked me in the car!" he shouted as I scooped him up.

There was nothing I could do but laugh slightly hysterically as I rocked him in the foyer and said a litany of "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry". Apollo stopped crying to look at me incredulously--really should I be laughing at this?--but it calmed him down and we walked back inside.

He continued to accuse me throughout the meeting--Apollo is not known to let go of a grudge. "I thought I was going to be locked in there forever." "I was all alone." "You left me." I answered with sorrys and reminders: "I came back for you." I'm betting he won't remember that part when he tells the story...