This has been a week hasn’t it? The inches of snow, the loss of power and water, all of it. We think we speak for almost everyone when we say it’s time for winter to pack up and go. One of our mom bloggers, Erika Slater, shared her thoughts with us about how she’s handled this “snowmaggedon” with her family. Check it out.
The last three years of hoping for snow all wrapped up in one week of disaster: snowmaggedon. Texas, why do you always have to go bigger and better than the rest?
Growing up in Wisconsin, I lived through my fair share of blizzards, sledding dates and shoveling driveways. We were so tired of winter by the end of March and wished away any news forecast that called for precipitation. However, with three little Texans, we danced, prayed and wished on stars to wake up to snow.
It was beautiful. The trees were covered, the lawn was a pristine, glowing blanket of snow, and we spent a good portion of the afternoon building snowmen, throwing snowballs and using pool floats in a southern attempt at sledding down the hills.
However, Monday was also the day we started the “rolling blackouts”—also known as the extended delay of any heat returning to our home.
At one point, it was 49 degrees inside and we were all bundled in Comfy’s and blankets by the fire. News stories circled the internet as those without power and gas fireplaces were miserably cold and there were no answers on how to predict the next return of heat. For our family, we were surviving—still cold, yes—but we enjoyed the board games, the brief periods of warmth and catching up on our books.
Tuesday afternoon, as we were washing dishes in the sink, we heard a series of loud noises and turned around to see a hole burst through our ceiling and water gush from the top.
I stood frozen, as my husband rushed around to find the key to the water main to attempt to shut it off. We called the fire department, called neighbors, and a couple came to our rescue and helped my husband de-ice the cover and open the main to stop the water supply.
We ended up sweeping gallons of water out of our kitchen and entryway—and now we wait in this cold, dark and waterless house for a plumber to figure out the damage.
Last night, all five of us snuggled in our master bedroom together with the fireplace lit and I realized that resilience is the name of the game right now.
With a high-risk son, we haven’t been able to participate in activities like most among the COVID world. Our children miss their friends, miss school and wish they could pray away COVID. We joined in prayer last night though, not for our family, but for those people who are lonely, scared and don’t have four walls around themselves to protect them from the bitter conditions.
When we laid down for bed, my youngest snuggled up on my pillow and put his head on my shoulder. It shouldn’t take a pandemic or a natural disaster to realize that your children have innate resilience. Their anxiety manifests in the curiosity of questions, their need to be your shadow and the wide eyes looking for reassurance that everything will be OK. Their world has been turned upside down and—somehow, someway—they are continuing to laugh and smile.
Best of all, they still believe you are rocking the parent game.
I may have fed our children cereal for the last three out of four meals. We may not have showered in the past three days. Our house may be littered with dirty dishes and sopping towels that can’t be washed due to a non-existent water supply. But I do have our family under one (cold) roof, and someday we will sit around a campfire and rehash the year that tried to break us.
Our pipes may be busted and our toes may be cold, but our hearts are still together as one.
Erika Slater is one of our mommy bloggers who lives in Coppell with her husband and three kids—one who has autism, diabetes and other autoimmune diseases. You can read more from her here.
Photo courtesy of Erika Slater.