If the snow had not begun to melt and the sun hadn’t decided to shine and the kids weren’t returning to school tomorrow, I dare say that Tom would come home from work tomorrow night and find me in the basement doing a puzzle, catatonic from craze. Drool would be seeping from one corner of my mouth, a wine glass with a straw long enough to reach my lips would be on the table just to my right, and my left hand would be obsessively rubbing nutmeg’s head, a cat lady gone way-crazy wrong.

Fortunately the sun is melting, the sun is shining and the kids are going to school tomorrow.

We have already been to swimming lessons, Party City for decorative shamrocks and other 6th-birthday needs, and PetSmart for a new Sunburst Wag Platy fish to replace the one who is with us no more. Like all SeaWorld orcas are named Shamu (I curse you and your lies and ill-treatment of those orcas, SeaWorld), our Sunburst Wags are all known as Lightning Strike.

As you might recall, our previous Lightning Strike was struck with Dropsy, put into fish hospice and tended to by Tom, seemed to be on the up and up once back home in the tank and then perished suddenly, just after our new black Molly (the first was named Black Swimmer, this new guy is Darth Fishious; I don’t know why they are treated differently in the name department than are the Sunburst Wags) moved in. We found Lightning Strike stuck to the filter’s intake tube: as if he’d given up in mid-swim and just gone with the tide, right smack into the suction.

Because the sun is shining, I am “spring” cleaning like a lunatic and, once home from this morning’s marathon, even scrubbed the fish tank until its glass walls gleamed. We bought a new plant for our marine friends and things in there are sparkling. Hopefully Darth Fishious and Lightning Strike 2 will be with us for a while. Creamsicle (the orange guppy) and the two neon tetras are strong as steel. I admire them.

The kids are, shockingly, more in love with each other than ever despite having been housebound together for four days. As such, T and I really felt like assholes when, about two hours ago, we looked at each other with wild eyes, realizing across thought waves that neither of us could even stand the boys’ tinkling laughter anymore. We have all had too much togetherness.

I sent T to the gym, escaped to my US Presidents puzzle in the basement and threw the iPad at the kids. If they’d asked to streak the neighborhood, I’d have agreed because they’d have left the house and that equals quiet.

The merciful Saint of Babysitting answered my 911 call to all sitters I know. She who should now be canonized, Alex, arrived twenty minutes ago and whisked my children to the playground. As they left, I thrust a credit card in her hand and begged her to “run their faces off and then take them to dinner.” She agreed, and I am grateful.

She came just in time because I’d started throwing away or vacuuming everything in my path because CONTROL. I am now in my home by myself feeling something remarkable. I think it’s called bliss.

People, things seem to be falling rapidly apart 'round here. 90% of the folks I know are in a supremely peevish mood, cold-induced rage simmering just below the surface, manifesting as fatigue, stress, emotional ups and downs, frustration, blah! Shoulders are hunched, brows are furrowed, we're all just so flipping cold. Even the kids have started bad-mouthing snow. Found out yesterday that one of the main water treatment plants in our area malfunctioned so we're on a super-fun, extremely time-efficient Boil Water Alert. Presently, I am literally boiling water and letting it cool so that we can bathe and sip. Jesus h, people. Am I in the nation's capital, or am I making that shit up?

I threw the first pot of roiling water onto the ice sheet that is our deck. Slip-and-sliding down the stairs is the last thing I need, not least because I cut the bejesus out of my right thumb on Sunday night (washing knives, thought the blade was down, it was up) and feel down a half hand. Thumbs are exceedingly useful things and I miss mine being fully functional. I felt better watching all that damn ice disappear but then realized what an utter waste of time any more of that process would be. I need this damn water for us, yo, so we're not drinking poopy water.

For pete's sakes.

To make matters more fun, the kids have no school tomorrow. Surely you jest, Em? Alas no. It's a conference day. I can't wait for more inside togetherness. Truly, it'll be swell.

I have, on a positive(?) note, rediscovered my passion for 1,000 piece puzzles that I originally rediscovered last July when I had effing pneumonia. Jack and I wrapped up Gum Wrappers on Tuesday, and today I am expecting delivery of both Playing Cards and Puzzles. A puzzle of puzzles. Who am I? Em-i-nerd?

Winter is really driving me to new and greater lengths. Of what, I'm not totally sure.

Husband got home so late last night that I was already asleep. Boo hiss new somuchlonger work hours. Miss that guy. Also, he threw my enormous mound of lovingly sorted recycling into the regular garbage can this morning just before the truck arrived which really busted my chops. Come on, man!

But I'd like to give a shout out to my little Ol who has been "dwy" at night three nights running. You're a champ, Shamrock.

And, since issuing a 25₵ fine for being awakened prior to 6:15am, we've slept peacefully until at least 6:16. Swear y'all, get a fine jar of your own and you can wipe out craptastic behaviors in.a.flash. Haven't heard butthole since putting that jar out. It's like Elf on the Shelf but less creepy and all year long!