As I was dressing for my 5-degree (Farenheit) walk to work, the meteorologist on my morning radio station said that there are two “snow events” expected this week. I flipped off the volume because I don’t know what a “snow event” is, but I’m positive I hate it.
I’m 18 years into my Midwestern living and still –the snow, the layers upon layers of clothes, the housebound days– shock and outrage me. How dare you, Mother Nature? You know, I am a mother too, and I feel guilty when I snap at my children, but that bitch Mother Nature thinks nothing of trapping me in my dirty house with my small children with nothing to do but snack and rip sh*t up.
It’s getting to me already and it’s not even January. So help me Buddha if one more person who lives in
Paradise southern California tells me that they “miss the seasons” while lounging beneath the shady comfort of their flowering lemon tree (in late December!), I’m going to be committing a misdemeanor.
Are there upsides to this upcoming “snow event” (that I refuse to acknowledge was actually announced in the plural)? Sure. There’s sledding, and “getting cozy” while watching movies, and drinking melted chocolate. Yeah, there’s all that. As for sledding, I find it a little too dangerous for my taste to hurtle my 2-year old down a slick hill with only his four-year-old sister as a buffer between him and the frozen tundra. Getting cozy and watching a movie? Also not my cup of tea since every movie we’ve ever tried to watch scares my kids in the opening credits. Of course I am down with drinking hot chocolately beverages, but high doses of sugar mixed with heavy doses of indoor living just don’t mix.
So, I’ve made peace with being a lame winter mom. I hate the snow, I hate the cold, I hate constantly badgering my kids about where their gloves are or whether they remembered to bring their snow pants home from school.
Jeff can escort the children into the mystical snow events that are coming up. I’ll happily head to work on public transportation where it will be hard to squeeze into a seat because everyone’s wearing such puffy gear. I’ll be listening to Jimmy Buffett and the Beach Boys trying every trick I know to forget about the weather, one moment at a time.