I’ve recently adopted a new habit: taking a quick walk around the neighborhood once the kids are in bed. I get the dishwasher running, tidy up the living room and head out just as the sun is starting to set.
It’s been bloody hot here lately, but I’m actually enjoying these warm, sunny summer days. I know–surprising given that one of the most popular posts on this blog is about how I hate(d) hot weather.
To be quite honest, when it was just me and Eric and our quiet little life, it was easy to romanticize living in a place with all four seasons. You know… waxing eloquent about those brief, beautiful moments in which I saw the first snowflakes swirl outside the window, camped in the St. Croix River Valley with fall colors in full swing, or felt the euphoria that I think every Minnesotan feels on the first day it hits 40F in March.
The weather here is very dramatic, as I’m sure most people are aware.
And there are perks to living somewhere that’s (literally) straight out of Little House in the Big Woods. Some of my favorite memories wouldn’t exist without the rituals that we have only because of the seasons. Like fall camping trips, Loppet, or the elementary school sledding hill. Those rituals add meaning to daily life here, and it’s hard to imagine an existence without them, when they’re all you’ve known.
At the same time, the everyday reality of winter here–which is 4-5 months out of the year–is more drudgery than romance with a young family.
Trying to get out to the grocery or OB whilst pregnant, and the roads are too icy to drive safely. Wanting to take a walk with your baby but it’s too cold for him–so you just end up sitting indoors, twiddling your thumbs. Shoveling snow… so much shoveling snow, and our driveway is tiny! And roof-raking. Getting snow tires. How long it takes to bundle up a toddler, a baby, and yourself just to go get gas or food.
When little A was in the ICC for a week this winter–and I stayed with him to nurse–it was the coldest week of the year. The temperature dropped below -15F almost every night. The sun barely came out during our stay (and the days are so short anyways). And here I was in this tiny windowless room, wondering what was wrong with him, unable to go outdoors, stressed about Eric driving to and from the hospital on the icy roads.
When we finally were released, it was the coldest day of the year at -20-something degrees. As I was rushing around loading up the car with our bags, checking that the 10000 blankets on the baby weren’t suffocating him, unable to feel my hands even with gloves on, I suddenly thought: why on earth am I doing this?
I’m not winning any awards for toughing it out. I don’t even like winter. I like the idea of it, but not actually living it. I don’t ski, skate, snowshoe, or like being outdoors in it… I just put up with it.
The past few nights on my walks, it’s still been quite warm. But oh what glorious weather. I love seeing the golden sunlight in the treetops, being able to go out in just a tank top and shorts, feeling the warm breeze without shivering. Everything is so lush and green.
Life feels so relaxing and pretty on those evenings. In the past I’ve thought, well, wouldn’t having warm weather year-round make it less special? And I realize no, definitely not. I’d just like to be comfortable and not even have to think about the weather most of the time. There are more important things in life to me. And some people can live their best lives here, but I don’t think I can forever.
xx