Megan Again: Winter Woes
Megan Again: Winter Woes
By Megan Wirts
I’m cold and I don’t like it!
I say that constantly throughout this time of year. I’ll admit it, I’m a whiny baby when it comes to being cold. During the winter months, you will find me bundled up in multiple layers and huddled underneath a heated blanket as often as possible. When I‘m somehow forced to go out into the frigidly cold weather you will see me covered in hats, scarves and mittens all the while complaining and shivering.
I used to love the winter. There once was a time when I would grab my ice skates and walk to the pond across the street from my house nearly every single day. It didn’t matter if the temperature was -10 degrees. I would turn on my walkman, put my headphones on over top of my hat and...
...skate for hours to the sounds of Amy Grant or Janet Jackson. I would imagine that I was Dorothy Hamill skating for the gold medal. I had the haircut for a while and everything. Alas, I could never quite master skating backwards and my Olympic dreams were dashed, but I could do an impressive figure 8.
As I have gotten older I do not tolerate being cold as well as I used to, which has caused my love for this time of year to dwindle. Don’t get me wrong, I love the first snowfall with its magical fluffy white flakes and a white Christmas is always the best, but I’m over it as soon as the last gift is unwrapped. If I could I would just skip the rest of winter after the holidays.
Yet, I choose to live in a place where it is dark and cold for a good portion of the year. A place where when I open the door and the cold air hits my face, my first instinct is to slam the door shut and hide under a blanket.
However, it’s my home. My friends and family are here and we do have three other seasons that I love.
I will also suffer through for the sake of my kids. They love the snow like I did when I was young. So, if I must, I will reluctantly participate and sometimes I will even forget how cold I am and how much my face hurts when I see how much they love it. Sometimes the sound of skates scraping across the ice will remind me of that feeling of gliding across that pond. The smell of fresh snow will send me right back to sledding down the big hill behind my parents house. My memories of winter as a child are enough to want my own children to have those experiences and it keeps me here.
Maybe when they are grown my husband and I will be like many Michigan retirees and spend the cold months down south. I see the appeal now. I have a few decades before that can happen and so I will try to make the most of it. I will endure the vicious love/hate cycle that I go through every year.
A cycle that goes much like this: My kids will beg me to go out and sled with them or my friends will want to go ice skating and I will say yes. I will love it for about 10 minutes and then deep regret will set in. I will question my existence, my life choices, how I came to be where I am today and will cry out, “Why oh why did I ever agree to go outside!”.
When I finally make it back indoors, hopefully with a hot cup of coffee in hand while wrapped in a heated blanket, I will vow to spend the rest of the season in the house where I am dry and warm. I will think of all the wonderful indoor things I can do to pass the time, like watching more Netflix, reading that book I have been meaning to start, or maybe I’ll learn to sew or do some crafting.
Then a few days later, I will look out the window and comment on how beautiful the snow is and my children will beg me to go out with them once again and the cycle will continue.
At this moment, I am at the ‘I vow to never go outside again’ part of the cycle and I’m looking forward to spring time. As of this writing there are 68 days, 14 hours, 18 minutes and 24 seconds until the first day of spring.
Not that I’m counting or anything.
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