Once again, I am going to go to bed with an impending winter storm threatening my good night's sleep. (As if my toddler doesn't play a big enough role in that already.) Call it life in the Northeast; I call it a long, tedious winter. You see, I am terrified of driving in snow or ice. At least once a week, from January to whenever, I have to listen to the forecasters tell me that when I wake up in the morning, there will be snow and I will be driving to work in less than favorable conditions. This does not make me happy.
Predictions of snow didn't always fill me with a sense of dread. Back in the day, a snowstorm meant heading to my grandparents' house and sledding on the golf course down the road. It meant the smell of wet, woolly clothes drying on a radiator after a long, fun day tumbling down snowy hills. It meant stocking up on magazines and hot cocoa and watching bad daytime television. And it meant slow down and relax. Now it just means get out there and risk your life to get to a job that is never worth it. I can't express to you just how envious I am of those who still get to have snow days in their adulthood, who can stay home and enjoy the gift of bonus time with their kids, or just spend the day however they wish.
There are many, many times during these long winters that I seriously contemplate life in another climate. How I could adjust to decorating a palm tree for Christmas, build sand castles instead of snowmen. But I know that my life is here, especially now that I have my little girl. I want her to have memories carved out by seasons as I do, and to judge the passing of time by the changes outside. Most importantly, our support system is here, our family and friends who make the snow and ice melt a little with laughs and love. So here I'll stay. Just forgive me if I'm a little tired from lack of sleep.
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