don’t count your snow day before it… snows

We were so totally supposed to have a snow day here in NYC today. I mean, it was going to snow all night, starting at 7 pm, and not finishing until noon today. No school FOR SURE, right? Outside chance of a two hour delay. But I mean come on.
I became a little too pre-attached to this outcome last night (always a mistake for a mother) and sold the kids hard on the whole inside-out and backwards pajamas thing.  It is a belief widely held among kids of this generation that if you flip the jammies, a snow day will come. I love anything that has my kids believing in magic and hope and wishes really coming true. Therefore, since the weather reports had me certain Santa Snow would come through, I made them all change into their lucky pajamas as soon as we got home from school, scratchy backward collars and all. Then we pre-planned our morning: pancakes, Star Wars Monopoly, hot chocolate, Legos. 

Maybe getting outside eventually, if and when we felt like it. 

When my husband got home, he was so taken by our exciting snow day preparations, he declared that he would play hooky from work and take a snow day with us, since it would succeed! Yes, it would, indeed! 98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed!
I woke up around 6:15 am, the first in the house. Looked out the window. Huh. Not a LOT of snow. And not currently snowing.
Then I checked my Notify NYC text messages, which I love having on my phone because I get school closing info half an hour before the news channels are reporting it:
NYC OEM
NYC public schools are open. All field trips are cancelled.
Field trips? No! But- no! There must be some mistake! I turned on the TV only to hear the announcer say, with a raised eyebrow, “New York City public schools are open today.” 
Even then I wasn’t sure. I kept watching in case, you know, she’d get handed a piece of paper from off camera and say “we have breaking news! A further snow emergency has been declared…”
Connor shuffled into the kitchen. One look at his face and I knew: he knew.
“There’s school,” I said.
“I knew as soon as I looked out the window,” he said. (Much less in denial than I was.)
“I’m going to work,” David sighed. Magic morning? Cancelled. 
I don’t know why I’m so bummed that I didn’t get a extra winter’s day of three kids stuck in this apartment, rather than the pleasant silence I am currently enjoying before preschool pickup in fifteen minutes. I guess it’s that the magic let them down– and by extension, so did I, since I encouraged them so hard to believe. 
There’s one reason to keep hope alive, at least: according to this “Talk of the Nation” story, you’re supposed to do the inside-out pajamas, NOT backwards, plus lick a spoon and put it under your pillow. I didn’t know about the spoon. Next time we’ll get it right.