Stir craziness is a thing. A real thing.
Stir crazy sick toddlers in a polar vortex has been a whole new level of fun and games.
Just when you think you are prepared for everything, you aren’t. Trust me.
I spent part of the 2011 Snowpacolypse running on a treadmill because I was bored,childless, and I could. I also survived Winter 2014, and it was the coldest Chicago has ever had on record: Dan and I hunkered down minus kids, however, Viv was part of the winter baby boom 9 months later…
Needless to say, this whole snow day thing with two feral children was new to me.
You could say craziness started with Dan’s flight for his annual sales meeting getting cancelled. Normally, this would be no big deal, but clearly this was just the start of the universe laughing at me. So Dan bumped up his flight to Tuesday, and escaped the frozen land we were about to call Chiberia.
My second sign should have been Viv coming down with her 1,679,874th case of croup on Monday night. So we kept her home from school on Tuesday.
That didn’t seem so bad. I am Supermom, and totes had this.
The Polar Vortex had officially hit by dinner time. No problem. I had stocked up on all the necessities. I also got both kids pizzas they could eat, because I’m a cool mom, and ovens are hot! Yay me. Damn, I’m smart. We survived dinner, my kids loved me, and my kitchen was extra toasty.
This Vortex had nothing on me.
And then bedtime happened.
Viv asked to watch a show in my bed while I put Everett to bed in his room. Sure! I was killing this cooped up Vortex crap, why not?!?
As I started to search through Netflix for her beloved Barbie, the poor kid started to cough. And I mean really cough.
Pizza and a croupy kid was a bad idea.
Dinner was now all over my sheets and my duvet. I was no longer killing it at the Polar Vortex game.
So I stripped my kid, and the bed. Barbie’s Dreamhouse was playing and to the rescue, (side note- whoever created Barbie’s Dreamhouse series is evil and hates parents). Everett eventually passed out.
This called for a victory LaCroix. So I took a stroll downstairs, but as soon as I walked in the kitchen I realized it was drastically colder than the upstairs.
Cue wide eye panic. I then confirmed that yes, only cold air was blowing out of the vents. Because this was the perfect time for a furnace to break.
The Polar Vortex was definitely winning. Thankfully it was only one of our furnaces.
So I make a few phone calls to Dan and the hvac company. One to maintain some of my sanity, and one to maintain our heat. The heat will get fixed in the next morning. My sanity was a whole other story.
Right as I hang up the phone, I hear Everett cough.
Yeah, two croupy kids and pizza was a really bad idea.
By midnight, both croupy, no-longer puke covered kids are still toasty and passed out in my bed. So I sneak back downstairs. The thermostat say 62. Woohoo.
For the next 4 hours, I did the space heater and boil water on the stove dance. Space heater, you say? Why yes, because after living in my house for 1 year, I decided that the impending Polar Vortex was a good time to realize I have zero fireplace keys. At 4AM, Viv realizes I’m not in bed with her, and my kitchen thermostat says 68 again. I succumb to the Vortex gods and go to bed.
At 6:15AM Everett wakes up, because even after all that puking toddlers will survive on 6 hours of sleep and wake up demanding to play with trucks. Sleeping in was not an option. E climbed on me and declared it time to get up.
The Polar Vortex was definitely beating me.
By 9AM the kitchen thermostat says it’s 60, and the hvac guy has arrived to fix the furnace! Yay for reinforcements!
With the furnace fixed he high tails it back out into negative windchills. He’d rather be out in the cold than cooped up inside with feral toddlers. I don’t blame him. At least we have heat on the first floor now, the kids can escape the confinement of my bedroom, and Everett can stop dumping Cheerios in my bed. I prefer to not crunch when I roll in my sleep.
By noon, I have lost count of how many times I have told my children not to climb on the furniture, not to touch the other one, and that they have to eat the food in front of them before they get another snack.
News flash, mama lost the snack war. Applesauce pouches are crack to toddlers. Do not deny a croupy toddler their beloved pouch. Ever.
By dinner time, both children knew they had me outnumbered. I tried to bribe them with a movie to get them to eat their chicken and rice.
Everett took this as the ultimate challenge, and when my back was turned all of his rice was launched across the room.
We may be picking up rice grains for years to come.
The Polar Vortex was definitely winning. The kids got their movie.
Bedtime night two. Croupy kids will puke on you again.
Polar Vortex, I give up. There’s not enough wine for the puke, cold, and feralness.
Is it Spring yet? The animals need out of their cage. I promise to let them run wild and free. I see you 40 degrees. So close, but so far away. I’m coming for you and bringing wine.
In other news, Supermom has also retired. If you are looking for her, she will now just be known as Justokmom.