Growing up in Utah, I can only recall a few snow days from my childhood. Sometimes I wondered if the school bus even had a plow. My time in Minnesota didn’t fare much better. But now living in Western Oregon, it seems that even a light dusting of snow sends everything into a tailspin. I get it—they aren’t equipped for snow like other places, but come on! Just last week, schools were closed for four days, and I honestly thought the world was ending. Each time a snow day rolls around, I find myself navigating through a series of emotional stages that eerily mirror the Kübler-Ross five stages of grief, typically associated with those facing terminal illness. Here’s how it goes.
(Note to parents who relish snow days: if you enjoy having your plans thrown into chaos, feel free to exit this post now. This isn’t for you, and trust me, the comments section will only become a bummer.)
1. Denial
When you first receive the cancellation email from school, your initial reaction is disbelief, convinced that there’s been some kind of error. You cling to the hope that you can still drop your kids off like it’s a normal day. You check other sources, listen to the radio, and pray until the reality sinks in that your plans for the day have vanished into thin air.
2. Anger
This stage kicks in when you break the news to your kids about the school closure, and they erupt in cheers while you feel a tightening in your chest. The reality has hit, and everything just got a lot more complicated. If your job is still operational, you might call in sick or take them along, which only makes your workday feel twice as long as you attempt to send emails while managing noisy kids. You can’t speak to them as freely as usual without worrying about your coworkers judging you, so you resort to offering them a million trips to the vending machine. This phase often elicits thoughts like, “Why me? It’s just not fair!” or “Who can I blame?” and “Forget this! I’m building an igloo!”
3. Bargaining
During this stage, you desperately try to negotiate a way out of the snow day reality. You might hand the kids a tablet for the day, suggest renting a movie, or promise to whip up some mac and cheese—all in the hopes of gaining a few precious moments to catch up on emails or tackle laundry. It’s a frantic bargain to reclaim some semblance of productivity.
4. Depression
When you finally surrender to the chaos—realizing you’ve spent most of the day yelling, “Shut the door! You’re letting the heat out!” while mopping up melted snow from the entryway—you’ve reached the fourth stage. You feel a sinking sensation in your stomach, and the weight of it all becomes overwhelming. At this point, you may find yourself thinking, “What’s the point of even trying?” or “I can’t take this anymore!” (Last snow day, I hit this wall around noon, but some parents hang in there for much longer.)
5. Acceptance
In the final stage, you come to terms with the situation. Your plans are kaput, and the kids aren’t likely to give you a moment of peace, so you venture outside to build a snowman. “It’s going to be alright,” you tell yourself. “I can either fight this or find joy in it.”
Most families experience some or all of these stages during a snow day, each in their own unique way. By the end of a snow day—especially after several—you’re ready for a break. Once the kids are tucked in, you might find yourself looking up and silently wishing for sunshine to return soon.
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Summary:
Navigating a snow day can evoke a rollercoaster of emotions, from denial and anger to bargaining, depression, and ultimately acceptance. While the chaos may seem overwhelming, finding joy in the moment can help you cope.