Here in beautiful metro Boston, there’s a 75% chance any day between November 1 and May 5 will be a snow day. Days without structure are really hard for our family, so I’ve put together a schedule for our snow days. You’ll see I like to keep my goals realistic and achievable. Feel free to borrow this and adapt as needed for your family!  

Actual footage of my face when the school district robocall shows up on my phone.

3:45 p.m., day before snow day

Get call from school district. Cancel day’s work, abandon all hope.

5:42 a.m., day of snow

Wake up with toddler head cracking your skull. Toddler: “MAMA! Where are you?” You: “Herpphhmmmph.” Children have not slept in. You knew they wouldn’t, but in a hopeful flashback of excitement to your pre-kid days, you stayed up until midnight watching your favorite show (i.e., anything that isn’t “Paw Patrol”).

5:43–9 a.m.

Screen time. Doze on couch (mom), jump on mom (kids).

9 a.m.

Tell kids it’s time to go outside, but forget work is due today. Put on more screen time, to their delight. Desperately work in same room as kids while feigning interest in YouTube videos and Minecraft.

Secret family recipe. Don’t tell my mom I shared it with you.

9:49 a.m.

Give up hope on working. Make cookies from secret family recipe.

10:34 a.m.

Fight breaks out over last spoonful of dough. Cancel Christmas. Be reminded Christmas already happened.

11 a.m.

Toddler gives up naps forever and also learns to remove his own diaper.

11:10 am

Wake up from small doze on toddler’s floor to flung diaper to the face.

11:12 a.m.

Put toddler back in bed. Wonder if there’s still a crib in the attic.

1 p.m.

Toddler finally asleep. Assess the damage done by older child while bargaining with Satan to get toddler to sleep.

Ok, now you take your socks off!

2–3:12 p.m.

Toddler awake. Get children dressed to go outside. Children remove each item of clothing plus one more as it is placed on their body.

3:13 p.m.

Take children outside in whatever clothes you managed to get on. Oh, it’s sleeting now. Realize you still have slippers on.

3:23 p.m.

Your eyelashes are coated in ice. Children are crying. Go back inside.

3:24 p.m.

“Hey kids, want to watch some more TV?”

I’m just going to make camp here for a while.

3:45 p.m.

“NO, I WASN’T SLEEPING. OF COURSE I CAN PUT ON MORE ‘PAW PATROL.'”

4 p.m.

Oh, God, what’s for dinner?

4:15 p.m

“THE CAT IS NOT A TOY! IT IS ALIVE LIKE YOU! STOP DRAWING ON IT!”

4:16 p.m.

Google flights to Florida.

4:18 p.m.

Google real estate in Florida.

4:32 p.m.

DANCE PARTY!

4:42 p.m.

“THERE IS NO PUNCHING IN DANCING!”

4:43 p.m.

Realize you have a stash of craft projects somewhere. Get it out and prepare to be covered in glitter.

Shovel your way to freedom.

6 p.m.

You are covered in glitter. Partner arrives home. Release children to partner and go relax by shoveling snow while partner finds old crackers and cheese rinds for the kids. Don’t ask questions. Just run from the house as quickly as possible. Put on your coat. Or don’t — who cares. YOU MADE IT. Shovel until bedtime.

(I have been known to walk the dog while forgetting to take the dog on days like this. Just do what you need to do.)