Snowed In

When I woke up this morning with Westley sucking fervently at my chest in his sleep, I heard someone rustling around in the kitchen/living room area. Rob was home, because he couldn't back his car out of the driveway. The steep incline was frozen and slick underneath several inches of newly-fallen snow. You can't go to work if the car slides forward when you put it in reverse.

I've never been snowed in before. I'm from Los Angeles. My idea of winter involves wearing long sleeves and a hat (maybe) and remembering to close the windows at night.

I've lived in Seattle for over three years, and I'm still not used to winter here. Which is totally weird, because I went to college in Western Massachusetts, which can get pretty effing freezing, especially at night. I think I thought of snowy winter as a temporary situation. Four years is not a long time in the grand scheme of life, so I never really learned how to cope with winter. My only warm boots have a three-inch heel.

I had no idea what to do with myself today. I put on said boots and pushed Westley around the neighborhood in the stroller. Westley looked like a little blue snowman in his secondhand snow pants, jacket and mittens (which my mom found just yesterday), and I got cold long before he did. Only his nose was chilly when we got home; the rest of him was toasty warm. I let him push the stroller around the living room for a while, and he played with my exercise ball, and then there was nothing to do. I overate. Rob baked cookies. I sat and watched the snow for a long time, and felt like I was a long way from home. I've written about this before: nothing makes me feel odd and out-of-place quite like snow.

Rob says that these cold, cold winters are unusual, that it didn't used to be like this when he was a kid, that this is climate change. But he remembers listening to the radio for information about school closings due to snow. I only experienced one school closing growing up--due to earthquake.

Westley will grow up with snow. So did my mother, who was born in Denver, Colorado. I'll have to get her to teach me how to do this. (How do you get a toddler to keep his hat on, never mind mittens?) I guess you just make it as warm as you can: light the fire, pile on the blankets, make enchiladas for dinner. You drink tea and decaf coffee and hot cocoa and pet the cats and plug in your tiny table-top Christmas tree. You read board books with the baby and give him two baths and make out with your husband during nap time.

You sit and watch the snow, thankful to be home.

-------------------------------------
I'd love to post a picture of the Winter Wonderland going on right outside my door, but my camera is busted beyond repair. Apparently, my little Canon point 'n' shoot could not stand up to being sat on by my 22-pound son.

.....................................