Another snow day? Are you kidding me? And this snow isn't even fun to play in... it's blown on high winds over hard, dirt encrusted old snow sprinkled throughout with dog poop land mines.

And as we all struggle to remain entertained and active on yet another cancelled day of school, I find myself staring longingly at the kindergarten registration papers.

Days like this are filled with highs and lows. When I get us all sculpting with clay I feel like a success, and then when two almost-five-year-olds melt down in tears and a cacophony of whining because they cannot perfectly render the visions they had in mind for their artistic creations, I end up leaving the room to calm myself down.

I do not think perfectionists are setting themselves up for a happy life. Nothing is perfect, and to believe it can be is to be ultimately disappointed, philosophically, right? However, I want them to want to achieve great things. Where is the line? How do you teach flexibility? Yoga classes? Are there workbooks for this?

Anyway, I have them settled for the moment on a Leappad and a Vtech art desk and am appeasing the guilt I feel for not posting more often. I want to, but day to day seems to leave less and less time for a simple email or phone call. Time is flying by and I can barely keep on top of the basics, like groceries and laundry.

I remember processing patents for high tech companies, and while I felt pressured and at times overwhelmed, I never had this degree of combined stress, overwork and an underlying sense of failing a little at everything. I know, I know, the woes of the stay at home mom, but seriously... I never thought it'd be this hard, mentally.

Could it be that this sense of failure is my own perfectionist streak rearing it's ugly head? The apple doesn't fall far, as they say. So, I suppose the lesson here is to be easier on myself, and through example, teach my kids to be more lighthearted in their own lives.

So, who cares that my bedroom looks like the fallout zone from a recent civilian uprising, or that my husband and I have eaten so many chicken nuggets in the last four years that we both have to battle high cholesterol? It's a snow day, the light in the winters of children throughout the western world... and damnit, I am sure there is more fun to be had. And my son just called in to me from the other room. He said, "Mommy?"
"What?" I answered, distractedly.
"I love you."