My fears were well founded. As soon as I got to my parents for the New Year holiday it snowed. With some ice thrown on top for good measure.
I spent 25 years living where it snowed with some regularity. I have many memories of sledding down the very steep hill in front of our house, of the joy of unexpected snow days, of snow cream and hot chocolate, of cobbled-together snow suits, and of bread bags pulled over your feet to try and keep them somewhat dry while spending hours and hours outside no matter the weather. I mention these things because, despite the fond memories of those experiences, I would be very happy to never see snow again. I do not like it. It’s cold and wet and, now that I’m an adult, I’ll pass.
Ava doesn’t like it either. She didn’t like being in it when we were in China nor did she like it the one time it snowed here (maybe 2″ max) the first winter she was home. But really, I thought she might dig it now that she was a little older.
Nope.
We did a quick walk outside which she did fine with until she realized that this was real, live snow. Or maybe it was the lack of snow boots that did her in?
And nope, no bread bags either. Apparently my mom quit saving those once she was all out of kids at home. Up until then she had about a gazillion tucked away for our use.
So – now that I have an unhappy toddler what do you think I did? Well, I video recorded her, of course. I even tried to distract her by tossing a snowball at her (which I have on tape) at which point she collapsed sobbing on the ground while I felt like a heel. (I’ll try to update the post later to add the video. It’s in the car right now and I’m too lazy to walk outside to get it.)
My payback for our approximately six minutes outside in snow hell was a wrenched back when I had to pick her up and carry her back inside on the slippery snow.
So, I rang in the New Year with one of my dogs, a heating pad, Dick Clark, and my Kindle (and the characters from a certain vampire book series that won’t be named) while crashed out on my parent’s couch. I called and woke J up just before midnight before heading to bed at a shameful 12:10AM.
Not my most exciting New Year’s Eve ever – but not my worst by a long shot either!
That is the saddest thing I have ever seen.