Winter has decided we Wisconsinites finally need snow, and Mother Nature apparently thinks the best way for all of us to get back into the regimen of layering clothing and keeping up with snow removal is to dump a whole bunch of the white stuff (9 to 12 in.) on us in a day or so.
Everyone’s buzzing. The SAHM phone network that keeps me connected with my peers has been analyzing the weather maps and probabilities of tomorrow possibly being a (school) snow day. I have heard the entire gamut of reactions, from, “I’d rather slit my wrists than be trapped in the house with my kids for an extra day,” to “well, let’s brainstorm some activities so we’re all prepared to spend a lot of quality time together.” Perspective strikes me as being nearly as unpredictable and elusive a thing as patience can be. You usually need it the most when it’s the hardest to practice.
Claire has come home with oodles of homework the past two nights. I’ve learned more about Antarctica today than I ever thought I needed to know, seeing as I don’t follow much ongoing scientific research and I dislike subzero temps about as much as I like, oh, say raw onions (which I despise – it’s pretty much the only thing I will not eat under any circumstances). Anyway, who knew there were so many research stations up there! And that each area of coastline has a different sea name for the body of water it’s bordering. As we were trying to find a map of the continent that showed specific features and detail areas (she forgot her map book at school, go figure), I ran across a web cam. When Claire finished her assignment, I pulled up one of the live web cams for her at the U.S.’s Amundsen-Scott Station, so she could see snow blowing in the tundra in real time. She was awed. Totally slack-jawed, wide-eyed in amazement, completely blown away by seeing the Antarctic “live.” Her expression lasted a whole minute, and then it morphed into a big smile.
And there it is! That magic-wand like moment when all the work your kid has done to this point has been collecting in disparate silos of the brain, where it all seems like useless facts and busy work. And then, ta-dah! A reaction somehow breaks those silos wide open, converging in a sort of mini-brain awakening. THIS is why I wanted to be a mom. This is the compensation for all the cajoling, bugging, pestering, arguing, yelling, and prodding that you do as a parent. And it’s so beautiful! Grab on to that whenever it occurs, because as I recall from my stepsons’ teen years, you’re likely going to really, really need that latent joy to look back at, those learning flashpoints to hold on to, to see you through your kids’ puberty.
Remind me of my daughter’s light-bulb moment tomorrow, when the whole family is all sitting at home, having a snow day together.
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