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Old Man Winter decided to show up last week, in the form of what feels like nonstop snow since last Tuesday. And three snowdays and two two-hour delays later, I am sitting at home in my pajamas, writing this, longing for a regular, normal, usual day.
Not going to happen – today at least. Snow Day.
Owen loves it, of course. Third grade has been a bit of an adjustment for him; he’s been telling me lately that he doesn’t like school and he hates homework, and he’s even asked if he could be homeschooled. He’s come home from the after school program a few days this month with headaches so bad they’ve made him throw up.
My theory is that he’s reacting to the structure and maybe his teacher and then the chaos inside at the afterschool program, but I was also his age when school went south for me as well. So I worry. His teacher hasn’t reached out to me, though, and when I’ve asked Owen straight out if he wants me to talk with her, he’s said no, so I’ve just been sitting with it and hoping it resolves. Sometimes you just get a teacher you don’t really click with; I hope that’s the case here.
So it’s nice, in a way, to cocoon at home, no school, no homework fights, work in my pajamas, be there when Owen wants to come up for a hug, snuggle under a warm blanket, and go outside with our goofy dog who ADORES the snow.
Plus, it’s kind of pretty.
(That said, PLEASE LET THERE BE SCHOOL TOMORROW. Thank you.)