Wednesday, January 14, 2015

The Difficulties of Hating Winter

There’s a quiz going around on Facebook lately. It’s called something like, Are you a Winter Lover? I took the quiz, assuming my results would confirm that I despise winter, but shockingly, these quizzes are not an exact science. My score was 19% winter lover. I laughed. Even though that seems like a low number, it’s 19% higher than it should have been. I sort of remember answering that I like hot chocolate, so maybe that accounts for it.

I am certainly zero percent winter lover. I can’t stand the cold. I groan when I see snow in the forecast. When people post pictures of their fun winter activities, I say a silent thank you that it wasn’t me. And I actually get angry when snow gets on my wrist in that space between my glove and my sleeve.

There is a problem with this, of course. Since I live in the Northeast, winter and snow are pretty inevitable. And all I want to do during these cold months is hibernate. Turns out, never wanting to leave my house may be good for my writing, but it’s quite bad for everything else. While people flock to the gym, determined to stand by their New Year’s Resolutions, my regular gym routine has been all but obliterated the past few weeks. Even simple errands get put off, because I just don’t want to step out that door.

My friends have been asking me to go skiing or snow tubing with them. This is where I become torn. There is only one single thing I enjoy about spending the weekend skiing…having a drink in the lodge by the fireplace. In the past, I’ve been perfectly content sitting there with a fellow winter hater, while the rest of our crowd enjoys the torture of freezing wind and falling on snow. But now, I do want my kids to have the experience. In truth, I’ve been meaning to expose them to skiing for years. The dilemma becomes, how do I teach them to ski without going outside??

I also don’t want to influence them and make them hate winter, too. As it is, whenever they play out in the snow (after I spend 47 minutes dressing them in snow pants, coats, scarves, hats, gloves and anything else that makes them unable to move a muscle), I try to get away with waving at them through glass doors from the comfort of my warm living room. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve done the obligatory building of snowmen and had the competitive snowball fights that every mom has to take part in. And I’ve done it with a smile on my face.

But I’d just so much rather bond with my children in the ocean on an island in the Caribbean.

We’ve actually been lucky so far. Where I live, the winter’s been mild and I’ve appreciated every second of the strange, unseasonable weather. Still, as soon as the cold drifted in, I was the first one running for my boots and counting the days until Spring.

I’m going to have to suck it up. I’ll take my kids skiing and I’ll like it if it kills me. Either that or I’ll have my drink in the lodge while my husband teaches them to ski. More likely. And I will get to the gym again. One of these days. Hopefully it will be before April.

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