Lost.

I hope by now you have no doubt that I love my sons. Really, I do. There is fine line though, here in Minnesota, when it is really time for winter to be over, and in theory it should be spring. We should be out riding bikes and enjoying the white turning to green. But it doesn't come. There is still snow, the boys get rambunctious, I get bored, and brain cells disintegrate.

My boys, while young, are smart kids. And I love these guys. Still, I am left to wonder, on these days while the seasons transition, if their brains got lost during on the axis tilt.

I have the occasional scenario where I walk into a room, see something mildly dangerous occurring, and proceed to sneak out and wait for the disaster to transpire instead of stopping it dead on. Don't judge, but sometimes explaining why something is dangerous isn't nearly as effective as a boy actually experiencing physical pain from his poor judgment.

Lately, we've had a lot of these scenarios. I blame it on the snow, and the icy driveway, and let's be honest...my disdain for this white March. Come on, boys, it's time to start hurting yourselves outside!

I've been on a search for the missing boy brains in the house after witnessing such events as my five year old standing on the coffee table with my size 8 women's rollerblades. He intended to rollerblade off the coffee table onto the couch. Said rollerblades were another problem when I had to explain why walking up a 17-step flight of stairs with enormous rollerblades on was a poor decision.

Speaking of uncarpeted staircases, have you ever zipped yourself up with your brother in a sleeping bag and rolled down a wood staircase? If there isn't blood, it can't hurt that bad, right?

We have a plumber in the house today, and bicycle in the basement. That covers the adventures for the morning. In the meantime, we are feasting our eyes on the blinding snow, hoping that what goes for a watched pot that never boils doesn't apply to the grass underneath the snow.

If we're lucky, when Spring has Sprung, so will a remedy of common sense for the cooped-up boys suffering from Cabin Fever.

We can hope.