It is dumping foot after foot of snow in our hometown of Montreal today. Facebook statuses from the North speak of nothing else — the city dwellers love their bustling surroundings coated in a quiet blanket of white, the car drivers are cursing the hours of digging, de-icing and dodging snow plows that have kicked off the start of another long winter, and the parents…well, the parents are beaming.
Because, quite simply, nothing beats the look on your kid’s face when they wake up to the first snowfall. Or jump in that giant pile of crispy leaves in October. Or dig out a pair of shorts in March, even when it’s still close to freezing, because a slight thaw in the air has signaled that spring may actually come back around one of these days.
We moved south seven years ago for a multitude of reasons and at the time, weather was definitely one of them. “You won’t survive another winter,” darling husband said to me. “I won’t survive another winter with you.”
After growing up in the big white north, I had become one of those city dwellers whose idyllic view of the snow-covered streets had turned into sheer hatred – snow meant nothing but soaking wet pant hems, later than usual buses, and parkas that couldn’t claim to be cool, no matter how hard the city’s fiercest fashionistas tried (and trust me, they tried).
But here we are, seven+ years later, and though I do adore 73 and sunny, it’s almost like a red velvet cupcake some days. There is such a thing as too many. Come see me in July? 73 and sunny. Come see me in March? 73 and sunny. Come see me in December? 73. And sunny.
I know, I know. You all hate me. Complaining about the glorious weather in southern California does not a popular girl make. But it also does not make some of the best memories a kid can have. Yes, Little D has the beach. She has Disneyland. She has park outings alongside celebrity kids.
But she also has a pair of rain boots coated in an inch of dust.
She has a parka that has been worn once, on a trip far, far away from here.
And she has “Santa Baby” on the radio, with the sunroof open.
And that just doesn’t make a very good Facebook status.