The weather reports are pretty unanimous now: we’re in for a big one. At least a foot of snow, if not more, plus strong winds, ice, low visibility — the works. Needless to say, all plans are cancelled and we ain’t going anywhere. It’ll be our first family snowed-in weekend!

Our last major snowfall was the February snowpocalypse of 2010. About 2 feet of snow fell around D.C., grinding the area to a halt for more than a week. It was about a month before I met Spencer, and I remember everyone — ev.ery.one. — logging into OkCupid, bored at home and rekindling their efforts to find romance. It was kind of fun.

So now it’s six years later, and we’re staring down another monster storm. I’m a little excited . . . and nervous, too. It’s strange to know a crazy weather event is coming to pummel your area full days in advance. We’re grateful for the warning, of course, but we’re all just holding our breath as we wait. It’s going to be bad, but we don’t yet know how bad.

As long as the power stays on, we’ll be fine.

And if it doesn’t, we’re heading to the basement.

Spencer and I have spent the last few weeks transforming a little-used storage room downstairs into a space for my crafts, home decor, organization of random junk I’ve somehow carried through two moves, etc. January seems to be the time for that. Put away all the Christmas decor and you’re suddenly aching for a clean, fresh, unsullied start.

After dropping way too much cash at Lowe’s, Spence is building me a counter/table work space. I’ve been Googling “craft rooms” and saving all sorts of photos to my own for inspiration, turning to Pinterest and basically pretending I know what I’m doing. (I don’t know what I’m doing.)

But we’re figuring it out. Sometimes it’s easier to pinpoint what I don’t like, decor-wise, and I basically buy everything from Zulily, anyway. So soon I’ll be dragging plastic storage bins down from every corner of the house to finally have my art supplies, stationery, seasonal decor and such in one place.

No more chaos. Organized chaos, perhaps, but I can work with that.

I’ve never considered myself OCD, but a coworker recently commented on how “clean” my desk was. I glanced over at a strange blend of clementines and bananas (always have healthy snacks on hand! Still going strong on Weight Watchers), many scratchy notes on Post-Its, various magazines I’m using for research, Coke Rewards caps, etc.

Everything was in tidy piles: right down to the bottle caps. Square things were at right angles; round things were grouped together.

I’ve always thought of it as being orderly. I just like things the way I like them.

But we have to be flexible sometimes, right? With the looming storm, we’re converting my soon-to-be craft room — currently just a newly-painted space with a bookcase — into The Bunker. The basement is strangely warmer than anywhere else in the house, plus it’s below ground . . . and, as in a tornado warning, that makes me feel safer.

The Bunker will have bottled water, extra blankets, a power pack for charging cell phones, the baby’s formula and extra bottles, flashlights, etc. I don’t know why I’m treating this like, say, a hurricane . . . but weather-related disaster prep is apparently all in one mental manila folder.

I have always lived in suburban Maryland, surrounded by bedroom communities with commuters heading into D.C. every day. The jokes about Washingtonians not being able to handle a single inch or two of snow aren’t wrong, but that’s not the full picture. Trust me, I get it; my husband grew up outside of Buffalo. What freaks me out doesn’t even begin to worry him.

But the roads quickly get congested and messy here. Our traffic is horrendous on a normal day, let alone during a rush hour with sleet coming down. We’re not used to cruising on ice, and hey — no one is safe on ice.

Plus, in our case, we have this little baby now.

I can worry about my own safety just fine, but worrying about Oliver’s safety is an entirely different shade of anxiety. Being responsible for a child is stressful in the best of circumstances, but having a 9-month-old still recovering from a weird virus, refusing to sleep and dealing with an upcoming blizzard has had me hitting the coffee — my drug of choice — pretty hard lately.

We took him to the doctor yesterday, knowing he wasn’t too ill yet . . . but we’d soon be stuck inside for days, and on a weekend. We’re no stranger to emergency rooms and urgent care, unfortunately, but I’d rather stave off that sort of craziness if we can.

Ollie is doing better today, thankfully, and I’m hoping the worst has passed. I stocked up on diapers, water, formula, etc. on Tuesday, ducking out after work before the crowds got unmanageable. Marylanders do tend to panic at the word “snow,” but this time? Well, I think that’s warranted.

I’m not going to lose my cool, though. We’re working from home today and tomorrow, Ollie is doing better, we have plenty of peanut butter for PB&Js if it should get a little dark in here.

And if nothing else, we’ll have stories — many stories — to tell.

Stay safe and warm, my friends! I’ll be looking for your Instagram photos and snow totals this weekend. Keep those yardsticks handy.