The title of the post is only a slight exaggeration. Between weekends, holidays, and snow days, my children have been in school for only 1.6 of the past 10 days. I love them very much, but I have grown alarmingly familiar with the realities behind that phrase regarding the conditions under which the heart grows fonder.

Overmuch proximity has a way of achieving the opposite result.

And so we have been doing our best to find occasion to go outside.

Whether writing our names in the snow with our feet.

Or standing proudly atop the sledding hill and providing extra momentum (and motivation) to those foolish enough to take the plunge.

Contrary to the only evidence I have to share, August enjoyed our most recent sledding adventure quite a bit. Perhaps his displeasure below has something to do with the fact that he eventually got cold.

I will preemptively say what Robbi will surely add as a comment if I do not now come clean. I failed to provide sufficient layers beneath Augie’s snow suit, which, to my way of thinking, was sufficient on its own. Apparently not. I guess we have the scowl to prove it.

Robbi, who is working on a huge project (and is not, she swears, pregnant), sent me off on an errand to fetch cheese balls and chocolate bars. Apparently, she is off of her Coke, York, and Almond Joy routine and is now seeking other kinds of calorie-laced inspiration.

It was a balmy 37 in Chestertown this afternoon. After all these frigid days, it felt like midsummer. The cold returns tonight, apparently. Just in time to freeze the melting wet roads and cause schools to close again tomorrow, I am sure.

I can see my children’s brains slowly atrophying with each passing day in my company. Their vocabularies are shrinking. Their will to learn is receding like the outgoing tide.

Please, unseen forces that guide the weather, please have mercy. I love my children very much, but I love them so much more when they are gone for approximately seven hours in the middle of the day.