After moving to Indiana in May of 2017, our little family of five just experienced our first Midwest Winter. Let me tell you, it was cold!
The number of times we heard “Welcome to Indiana” was countless. I eventually learned this is something even natives say to each other as an encouragement to get through the winter. Just knowing that even they aren’t fully fond of the extreme cold made me feel a little bit better.
We all know how winters go when you have kids.
The first time the snow falls it’s like a dream. The kids wake with wide, wonder-filled eyes. There are squeals of delight, an extra pep in their steps. And goodness, it’s just so cute you even have a bit of pep yourself!
In your excitement you plan the first outing into the snow, forgetting of course what really lies ahead. It doesn’t take long before you remember…
Layer upon layer upon layer of clothing has to be applied, especially because as a southern family we were not fully prepped for winter. Shoving sock-covered feet into shoes that are probably too small takes all of your energy and strength. You get the gloves on and throw on a hat. You stand back and take a deep breath.
One kid down.
Now that the baby is fussy and ready for another nap, you’ve got about five minutes to try to grab a Facebook-worthy “first snow” picture before all hope is lost.
You herd the children outside into the snow, realizing quickly that they were not prepared for how to walk in multiple inches of freshly fallen snow.
It’s okay though! You have the Snowman Building Kit and that’s all they really want to do anyway. One problem though: the snow is not wet enough.
In the south, IF it snowed, you could make a snowman. Apparently that is not always a possibility with Midwest snow. Who knew!?
You toss some snow in the air, make some girlish squeals, the kids follow suit, and call it a day.
Then it’s back inside to peel the layers off into one massive heap on the floor. It takes way less time this go around.
As the children rush to the heater to warm up and you calm the fussing baby, you take a deep breath and promise yourself you are never, ever, going to do that again. There’s no chance you’re taking three kids out into the snow again. Nope. Not going to happen.
Then the snow melts away. It’s gone for a bit. You start to miss it.
And then, if you give a mouse a cookie…