Let it snow...
I love the snow and have since I was a little girl. My kids don't know the same love I had at their ages. Maybe my Mom forced us to play outside while I let them curl up inside, maybe we simply had more snow, but it is definitely their loss!
Today we got about 4 inches of the white powder. I love how it looks.
T is still recuperating so he isn't able to help with the driveway. His friend JB called to offer to shovel us out, the neighbor offered to help and someone drove by offering to help (for a fee, I'm sure). But I said no thanks. And now, sweaty and with frozen toes, I have done the driveway, walkway, front porch and back stairs on my own sans help - unless tunes from the iPod count.
Listening to my iPod I realize I have a lot of music from my past and the songs from the present are really my daughter's music. Some songs bring back to such vivid memories that I feel like I have traveled back in time.
If I listen to this song the cold air actually makes me think it is February 1986. My high school ski club's yearly trip to Stowe, Vt. It was some of the most fun I had in High School. As with everything else from HS the memories also have a tablespoon of humiliation and heartache, but what I really remember is how much I loved those trips.
Can I keep part of the spirit of my youth? A time when snow meant a snow day or building forts at the Homuth's house or sledding, skiing or hot chocolate after helping my Dad do the driveway?
How do I suppress the irritated Mom whose kids won't help her shovel, and replace her with the freedom found on a ski slope that was just a bit beyond her abilities? How do I let go of the jealousy I have for my friends whose kids help them shovel as a matter of course? "As a family..." (as if I don't have one when I do).
And how do I not freak when I let my daughter (in the future) go on similar trips, knowing full well what things may happen...
(Picture from the ski bus in January 1985)
I'm lucky to have these great memories. Toes are thawed. Time to treat myself to a hot shower. It will feel better than usual....
Today we got about 4 inches of the white powder. I love how it looks.
T is still recuperating so he isn't able to help with the driveway. His friend JB called to offer to shovel us out, the neighbor offered to help and someone drove by offering to help (for a fee, I'm sure). But I said no thanks. And now, sweaty and with frozen toes, I have done the driveway, walkway, front porch and back stairs on my own sans help - unless tunes from the iPod count.
Listening to my iPod I realize I have a lot of music from my past and the songs from the present are really my daughter's music. Some songs bring back to such vivid memories that I feel like I have traveled back in time.
If I listen to this song the cold air actually makes me think it is February 1986. My high school ski club's yearly trip to Stowe, Vt. It was some of the most fun I had in High School. As with everything else from HS the memories also have a tablespoon of humiliation and heartache, but what I really remember is how much I loved those trips.
Can I keep part of the spirit of my youth? A time when snow meant a snow day or building forts at the Homuth's house or sledding, skiing or hot chocolate after helping my Dad do the driveway?
How do I suppress the irritated Mom whose kids won't help her shovel, and replace her with the freedom found on a ski slope that was just a bit beyond her abilities? How do I let go of the jealousy I have for my friends whose kids help them shovel as a matter of course? "As a family..." (as if I don't have one when I do).
And how do I not freak when I let my daughter (in the future) go on similar trips, knowing full well what things may happen...
(Picture from the ski bus in January 1985)
I'm lucky to have these great memories. Toes are thawed. Time to treat myself to a hot shower. It will feel better than usual....
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