Jen vs Snowy Driveway

Yesterday and through last night, we had the biggest winter storm we've had around here in several years. Nothing remarkable, I suppose, but when it hasn't snowed much, even the four-ish inches of snow that fell seems to be a lot. Fortunately, our activities both last night and today were cancelled, leaving us the luxury of spending the day at home.

Doing chores, of course. It is still Saturday, after all.

I assigned the indoor chores to the kids, and I set out to tackle the snowy driveway. It was the perfect plan: I was getting out of cleaning up the kitchen mess, and I would get a break from the incessant sibling bickery that just would not stop this morning. I laced up my snow boots, pulled on my hat, adjusted my sunglasses, and grabbed the snow shovel. Although I was about to embark upon three things I don't really like (cold, snow, and exerting myself), I was ready.

With the first shovel full of snow, I was reminded that before the snow fell, there was freezing rain. A nice, frozen layer of yuck was hiding behind the clean, fluffy snow. My awesome plan of escaping the inside of the house was beginning to seem a bit lackluster.

I persevered, though, reminding myself how many steps my Fitbit would surely record, and also wondered if I could plug "snow shoveling" into my Weight Watchers app for even more Activity Points. After about 30 minutes, I stopped to check my Fitbit, and almost burst into tears right there on the sidewalk when I couldn't read the display. I thought the battery died and all my hard work was for naught. I rushed into the garage and tore off my glove to see if I could revive the Fitbit. Fortunately, between the bright sun, the glare of the snow, and my sunglasses, I just couldn't see the numbers. Everything was there, as it should be. I heaved a sigh of relief and trudged back down the driveway.

All in all, I spent an hour and a half chipping away at ice and removing snow from the driveway. A person has a lot of time to think while executing such a laborious task, and I found myself thinking:

"Why in the hell do we still live in Ohio?!"

"I wonder how my form is. Are the neighbors judging my form?"

"How long does it take for snot-sicles to completely freeze and fall off?"

"I should have the kids out here doing this, but then they would just throw snow everywhere and someone would cry. Probably me."

"I really should buy a snowblower. Then I could charge, like, $10 to clear a driveway. That thing would pay for itself in no time!!"

As stubborn as I am, I had to throw in the towel before all the snow was completely cleared. My arms were shaking, my nose was running, and I was sweating under my layers of fleece. I threw some salt down, said a quick prayer that my back wouldn't go out, and hoped that the work I had done would be enough to get my car out of the driveway tomorrow (and back in, for that matter!).

Next time, unless I follow through on that snowblower plan, I should just pay a neighborhood kid to do the driveway. Then, my arms wouldn't be all shaky and my back wouldn't be screaming in pain. Now, I wonder if I can pay someone to take down the stinking Christmas tree...

Until the next snow fall (which I hear will be Monday, ugh!), I will call this a victory. I got a ton of steps and activity points (well, maybe not a "ton," but a lot), I got some peace and quiet (sort of), and my kids did the dishes. Jen - 1, snowy driveway - 0.

Seasons

All through the weekend, we heard about an impending snow storm, which we pretty much disregarded. It's not unusual to hear about the possibility of severe weather around here, all through the year, but many times it just doesn't happen. I do like to know what could be coming, so we can plan accordingly, but usually the storm misses us and then we move on.

Imagine my surprise to wake up this morning to find a bunch of snow on the ground, and to hear that the kids were out of school for a snow day. In November. Craziness.

Of course, the kids were elated to have a day off, and they almost immediately wanted to play in the snow. That's when it began, the relentless chorus of "Mom, where's my ______" that comes with each new season. Gloves, hats, snow pants, boots. They wanted it all, and couldn't find any of it.

It quickly occurred to me that the four seasons have different meanings when you're a kid. Winter is "Mom, where are my mittens?" Spring is "Mo-OM! I can't find my jacket. I don't need is anyway, it's warm!" Summer, or "MOM! I can't find my other croc!", comes next, and is followed by Fall, or "Seriously, Mom, I don't need a jacket. It's still summer! Besides, I lost that jacket. Will you buy me a new hoodie?"

Seeing as we just entered "Mom, where are my mittens?", or Winter, I wish all parents the patience to search the entire house, every day, for random gloves, scarves, and boots. May we all retire someplace warm, where we never have to worry about cold weather gear again.