Today was the first snowfall here on Long Island, and it was sort of unexpected. Well, we knew we’d be getting something, but that something ended up being a few more inches than the dusting most people were anticipating.
What I love about the news these days is the drama over weather. I’m not talking about the legit hurricanes & really dangerous stuff- I mean the naming of the… snow. This snowfall has a name, people. It’s Winter Storm Avery.
Now granted, some areas are getting a lot more wind & snow from Avery than we are here. But back in my day, a snow storm wasn’t given a fancy name. It was just…. snow.
Not that I’m great at toughing it out in less than favorable weather conditions, mind you:
I’ve lived in the Northeast my entire life, but I still react with shock & outraged indignation when the temperature dips below 60.
— Stephanie Ortiz (@Six_Pack_Mom) November 10, 2017
It began snowing here around 1pm. I didn’t realize it at first, until I started to get ready to pick the kids up from school.
It wasn’t a flurry. It was some serious snow. The kind that drenches your hatless head when you run out to your car to see if you kept a snow scraper in there from last year (or maybe that’s just me sporting a cold, wet head).
So I ran back into the house to get my SERIOUS winter coat on -the massive down jacket that basically covers every part of my body except the tips of my boots, which I shall now be sleeping in until roughly March- and to head to the school.
I neglected to properly scrape all of the windows in my haste, so I ended up poking my head out of my driver’s side window to clearly see.
Apparently I missed the previous memo about needing to cover my already wet head with a hood that would not take spontaneous flight in the wind of my driving, so cue sopping wet hair now.
I got to the school with exactly enough time, which to me means, “enough time to still meet the kids if I do that awkward speed-walk past the elderly and parents with strollers”. And I wore my snow boots, which are not waterproof.
I know that. Now.
The worst way to find out that snow boots aren't waterproof: step into a freezing cold slush puddle.
Spoiler: My boots aren't waterproof.
— Stephanie Ortiz (@Six_Pack_Mom) December 17, 2016
I picked up my kids, who like the majority of their classmates that were ill-prepared for the heavy snow accumulation, were wearing sneakers.
And missing a glove, because:
Of course.
So I was cold, wet, & cranky, and just wanted to get out of there, STAT. So I tried directing the three littles toward our car, but they weren’t having it.
They were running, with their sopping sneakered feet, in the snow. They were picking it up in cold, already reddened hands. The snow was clinging to the hair sticking out under their hats.
And with my wet hair, chilled fingers and slippery boots, I wanted no part of it. Didn’t they get that it’s cold?? And the car is warm. Let’s get in it. And then go to the house, which is also warm. Unlike their feet, their hands, and their little ears, which were freezing.
But then, I realized that the one who didn’t get it was ME.
I have 43 winters under my belt. I’ve logged countless hours in the snow. I’ve done it all- the snowball fights, the fort-building, the eating of the snow (hopefully not the yellow stuff…?!). I’ve been there, done that, and it’s lost it’s allure. Snow becomes a hassle, an inconvenience that throws off all of the “getting things done”.
But not to kids. And I almost forgot that.
To my kids, this was a magic moment. This was exciting, it was different, it was fun. And they wanted to be in the moment, even for a moment.
I’m glad I caught on. And though we headed to the car, we took our time doing so, wet hair and all.
Ten extra minutes resulted in so much fun for the kids, & it reminded me that there’s a need to slow down & be in the moment occasionally instead of being so constantly fixated on getting things done.
Although we were cold and wet, it was a sweet, meaningful moment.
(Of course reality hits sooner or later… but it was still fun while it lasted.)
