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Confession: I Hate Snow

Snow4 When I was a kid, I loved playing in the snow. When we'd be lucky enough to have several inches of the fluffy stuff, I'd spend hours outside building snow trails, snow forts and snowmen until my hands and face were red and numb and my legs ached from the exertion and cold. I'd come inside only to warm up, have a cup of hot chocolate, and change into dry clothing to do it all over again.

So when my children now press their faces up to the window and beg to play in this snowstorm, I feel guilty that I cringe and think up any excuse to keep them inside.

My love affair with snow is gone. I no longer see the fun - I only see the cold, the wet, and the mess I have to clean up each time snow-encrusted boots step across our threshold. I don't want to build snowmen or make snow angels. I don't like feeling cold and wet, even with the promise of a warm house and hot chocolate. At this point, the only reason I shovel the driveway and sidewalk is to avoid walking in more snow when we have to come in and out of the house.

When it comes to most outdoor activities, I'm generally the mom who pushes her kids to go outside. I love taking them to the playground in the spring, or running through the sprinklers in the summer, or hiking in the woods in the fall. But some new intolerance to snow keeps me from layering up my kids and starting a snowball fight.

At the moment, my girls are too young to play outside by themselves, and so any frolicking in the snow has to happen with my supervision. My oldest might be OK with me watching at the window, but my youngest will cry and scream if I were to even suggest that she play outside without me. And of course she'd also cry if her big sister played outside without her.

I know it's an aversion I'll have to get over, at least to some extent. Unless global warming rapidly accelerates, I doubt Ohio will have snow-free winters anytime soon. (And this year has been particularly heavy for snow.) Unless we plan on moving south, I'll have to accept that the snow will come each year, and the desire to go out and play in the white death will only grow stronger as my daughters get older. But hopefully they will want to play more with other kids as they get older, relying on me only to supervise or provide the hot chocolate and dry clothing like my mom did for me.

And if they don't, maybe I can convince them that dad is the one to take out into the snow.

Christina can also be found at her personal blog, A Mommy Story.

This is an original Ohio Moms Blog post.