Dear Winter, I am over you.

It was all fun and games at first. The excitement, the rush. Everything was so romantic; it was a marshmallow world. Our relationship was so fresh and invigorating. And then there was the anticipation…how much snow will we get? We had the thrill of a possible day off from work and school to go and play. We had some good times, I must admit. But then, something changed. Your not-so-pretty side began to show through. Day after day of ice and snow. Bitter, biting cold temperatures. The reality is, Winter, I’m just not that into you. And I think it is time we part ways. It’s not you, it’s me. Oh, wait. No, it’s you. I’m done. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.

Sincerely, EVERYONE

At the risk of sounding like every other person in the Northeast portion of the United States, it has been a long freaking winter.

As stated before, I am not a winter person. Or more accurately, I do not enjoy cold weather. The occasional brisk walk in crisp, freshly fallen snow is divine. Shoveling heavy, wet snow from the driveway or driving on icy roads is decidedly less so. And being cooped up in the house? I’m counting my lucky stars that the boys are at an age where they can amuse themselves for long periods of time. If they were babies or toddlers, this extended indoor time would be torture.

I remember those early days well because they required a lot of planning about how we were going to spend our day, a lot of interaction, a lot of direction and a lot of patience. And when I was fresh out of ideas, I could pop them in the stroller and take a walk. We took a lot of walks. Even in the winter. It was great…because we lived in San Diego. Moving back East was a whole new ballgame.

Our first winter back wasn’t horrible from what I remember. Much of that time is very fuzzy. We were living at my sister’s in January when the boys got their first intro to snow. I do recall, however, that the following winter was a rough one. Every snowfall is pretty much burned in my memory. Every white-knuckle drive home from work. Every snow day trying to entertain two and a half year-olds with various projects including letting them take every pot and pan out of the cabinet and rearrange them for the millionth time. Each time I broke out into a sweat getting them all bundled up in their snow gear. Good times.

The next few winters weren’t too bad. And the boys were older. And who doesn’t love a snow day? A snow day…as in ONE. But this winter is pushing my limits. I thought a nice look back at our progression of winters would be just the thing to cheer me up as we prepare for another storm. Or make me question my decision to move from San Diego. One or the other.

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Note: there is not one summer that has gone by during which many pictures weren’t taken…this says something.


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