We’ve had a few brushes with snow since having kids but there has always been one of these two problems: either the kid wasn’t the right age to fully appreciate it or the snow that had been promised was more like “snow.” Cold rain, hail, or some other not fun and not cute thing falling from the sky.
Living in the south, it’s normally been the latter.
But we arrived in Pennsylvania to celebrate the end of the year, and we finally had all the right ingredients. Real snow and a toddler who understood how cool that was. So much fun ensued.
There were still tantrums and nights of bad sleep but there is just something about snow. Everything is quiet and a familiar landscape is suddenly transformed into something beautiful and new. It was a great time to reflect on 2017, set goals for 2018, and really renew my appreciation for Ella. There were times during the holiday season that I just wished she would grow up. No more tantrums, no more time outs, no more crying at the slightest provocation– all of that sounded so good. But watching her make snow angels and the snowflakes gather in her curls, holding her close as her gloves soaked through and her little nose turned red, I remembered that I am living the time people wish they could get back. When their kids are young and in the house and need them for everything. I am living in the good old days and I’m going to stop wishing for the future to get here. It will get here all on its own– before I know it, before I’m ready to let go. So in the snow, I held her a little tighter, keeping both of us warm.