From Chaos to Connection: A Snow Day to Remember (Day Four)

The next morning, running on less than four hours of sleep, I still woke up feeling unexpectedly hopeful and renewed. My husband had an unexpected day off (thanks to a national day of mourning), and our babysitter was scheduled to come for a few hours.

Just knowing I wouldn’t have to navigate the day solo made all the difference. The day began with teaching yoga—a passion that always fills my cup—followed by a long-overdue workout and a rare lunch date with my husband.

On our way to the grocery store for a much-needed restock, we spotted an incredible sledding hill teeming with kids. We immediately thought about how much fun it would be to take our girls there after shopping. But, like many parents juggling endless to-do lists, I hesitated. My husband had a project to finish, and I was hoping to finally tackle some long-overdue cleaning and organizing during the baby’s nap while our babysitter entertained the girls. Skipping sledding and sticking to the practical plan seemed like the responsible choice.

However, on the drive home, we revisited the idea. Instead of overthinking it, we decided to let the girls decide—if they were excited about it, we’d go. Their enthusiastic “YES!” sealed the deal.

What followed was one of the most joyful, memorable afternoons we’ve had in a long time. We planned for 30 minutes of sledding but stayed for 90, laughing, playing, and fully embracing the moment. I’m a kid at heart, and this brought back the kind of pure, unfiltered fun I live for, much like the water slide marathon we had at their cousin’s birthday party. These moments of connection, play, and shared joy remind me why it’s so essential to make space for them.

That day inspired me in more ways than one. For my 40th birthday, I’ve envisioned a celebration rooted in joy, adventure, and connection. My plan is simple but meaningful: first, a day of fun and adventure with my kids while my husband takes the reins as “default parent;” second, a pampering outing with my friends to get our hair done at the Drybar; third, a quiet, intimate dinner with my husband; and fourth, maybe treating myself to a relaxing massage.

While many of my mom friends are dreaming of elaborate milestone trips, my vision is different—more low-key, but no less significant. It’s a celebration of laughter, love, and the people who matter most. After today’s joyful sledding adventure, I knew exactly what I wanted our family activity to be: snow tubing with the girls.

As we packed the kids into the car after sledding, I received the long-awaited message that school would reopen the next day, albeit with a two-hour delay. The kids were thrilled to see their friends, and I was looking forward to a quieter day at home with just the little ones.

That evening, the usual dinner chaos felt different. My perspective had shifted, and even though I had only one set of hands (our babysitter stayed for dinner, but my husband was busy with his project), I approached it all with positivity. I felt ready to handle whatever the next day would bring.

Our bedtime routine flowed effortlessly, and the kids were all smiles as we wrapped up the day. While snuggling with Remi, she looked up at me with a big grin and said, “Today was the best day of my whole life.” In that moment, her joy melted away every ounce of stress and fatigue, leaving behind only gratitude and love.

These are the moments that make it all worthwhile—the mess, the chaos, the exhaustion. Parenting is rarely perfect, but it’s filled with chances to choose joy, embrace connection, and create lasting memories.

That evening, as I tackled the pile of housework waiting for me, I felt a renewed sense of energy and contentment. I was reminded that parenting isn’t about flawless execution; it’s about showing up, learning from the hard days, and cherishing the good ones.

This snow day reaffirmed a truth I’ve always known but sometimes forget in the busyness of life: when we let go of perfection and lean into the magic of the moment, life becomes immeasurably richer—for us and for our kids.