Snow! Our first real snow was yesterday. When I was a kid, snow was enchanting. I lived in Southern California until 4th grade, and I remember exactly one snowfall. It was on a Sunday and by the time we got out of church, it was gone.
However, every winter we would travel to Big Bear Mountain and go sledding. My brothers and I would spend the day trudging up, then sliding down the hills, finishing with hot chocolate and maybe pizza before heading south back to warmth.
I like the snow. I really do. The sight of snow falling makes me feel like a kid. But it’s the cold I don’t like. Life just seems so much harder when it’s cold. Getting the boys ready to go outside is a task hard enough to bring me to tears.
So when I woke up to see the snowfall yesterday I had split feelings. As I got the boys ready to leave for MOPS they were excitedly talking to each other about the snow and looking out the window to see if it was still snowing (it was) since the last time they checked (45 seconds ago).
All of our winter clothing is still in storage in Iowa (long story), so I put on layer after layer of sweatshirts on my littles and on myself before we could go outside.
As I scraped the van windows clean I could hear the guys squealing in delight from inside the car as they saw each window open up and give them a new view of the winter wonderland. “It even snowed in the park!” They exclaimed.
As cold as I was (no gloves. They are conveniently in a box in Iowa), I took delight in their wonder and tried to see the snow through the eyes of a child. By the time I got into the van I was shivering, but happy. I actually was looking forward to the drive out to Lakewood. We would get to see the city in a new way, covered in snow!
That’s when I discovered the van heater had stopped working. Oh boy.