This season has seemed like a constant blur of white. I remember being at West Point as a cadet and mesmerized with the snow. Now I dread it. I hear, "snow in the forecast tonight at 11" and my heart sinks. My mind automatically whispers a prayer of thanks that Chris and I are considered "Mission Essential" personnel and thus have guaranteed child care no matter the weather, as long as they can get the doors physically open. Sean is doing so well at daycare and the ladies in his room are quick to tell me about his day, or call just to give me a head's up if he's a little gassy or fussy. So when they say "snow" I am thankful that I have child care, but a little blue because Sean isn't with his usual ladies but rather in a new room with whomever could safely make it to work. I am thankful they are there, but a little bummed that he won't be spending the day with the women who get to see him and watch him grow everyday.
Snow days now mean figuring out how to get up the "hill" to the daycare and praying the road has been plowed at least a little. With Sean safely bundled in his car seat, I lift the bucket out of the base and trudge (I now fully understand this word) through the snow into the building. He is too small to appreciate a snow day, and now that I am grown woman working no matter the weather, I am apparently too old to enjoy them. So here's to the years in between him and I--those years that he will smile with glee at snowflakes and run through the house to put enough winter gear on to go outside and play in it. I am looking forward to those years, but for now, I'll silently be wishing for spring to arrive a little early this year...and enjoying his playtime indoors...
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