Confession Time

Confession: I hate winter. 

Ok, that’s not quite right. I don’t hate winter. I love seeing tracks in the snow, or hawks in the bare branches of the trees. I love the sound of crunching under my feet and the scritch of squirrels on frozen bark. I love winter food and winter clothing (SWEATERS, am I right??). 

What I hate is the winter with children

We tried to go sledding this weekend, after a nice little blizzard dumped two feet of snow on our neighborhood. First we had to get everyone out of their PJs and into clothes. The laundry situation in here is… not great, so that was a bigger obstacle than you might think. 

Then we had to locate everyone’s snow stuff. That’s five pairs of gloves, five hats, five pairs of boots, five snow pants, five jackets. There’s only a handful of places in the house that any of these items should be lurking, and yet after half an hour of digging around, we still had to piece together mismatched sets for at least two of the kids and both of the grown ups. 

Then we had to actually get these snow things ON. My oldest is 8 and pretty self sufficient, since she goes to a nature school and has to suit herself up every day. But the four year old… that one has big opinions. She can get her snow pants on by herself, but God help you if you try to put anything on her that isn’t pink. She doesn’t like the way her toes feel in her boots, and she really hates having her gloves tucked into her sleeves. It’s a whole production. 

And then there’s the little one. She was so excited to get snow pants and snow boots on like her big sisters. But the gloves were an absolute NO. We put them on her. She took them off. We put them on her again. She took them off. We put them on her again… you get the picture.

So finally, we decided to leave with the youngest barehanded, thinking we’d get her mittens on when we got up to the school where we’d be sledding. 

I’m guessing you can see where this is going. It took 45 minutes to get ready, 45 minutes to walk approximately ¼ mile to the school with a screaming toddler, and 5 minutes for us to decide to go home. 

Now it’s Wednesday, and the snow has started its metamorphosis from white powder to gray slush with a layer of ice that keeps taking my four year old out. Our world is confined to our living room, and I’m longing for spring. 

It’ll be here before we know it, and my husband reminded me that this phase of our life will also be over before we know it. I’m sure next winter all three of my girls will be ready for snowmen and snow angels and snow forts. Like everything else, it’s just a season. I don’t want to rush it, I don’t want to take it for granted. 

But Lord, I will be relieved when the spring comes. 

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