Apparently, I’m Twelve
Hey, did you hear? It snowed this weekend. A lot, about seven loaves of bread worth according to my local weatherman. Stranded in the house, losing out on my quarterly hair appointment (read 2.5 hours of total bliss – no cell phones, no children plus scalp massage) all I could do was stare out the window as the snow continued to come down.
Truthfully, I could not wait to get out there. The more snow that fell the more excited I became. I kept a steady stream of snowy weather commentary going with my three year-old as I regaled her with tales of snow time activities that we would soon be able to partake in. When it was time to start shoveling, I bundled her up and took her outside with me. We trudged around the neighborhood taking great pleasure in “Momma! We can walk in the street?!” When all was quiet and dark, but still snowing, my husband and I bundled her up for a second time and headed out for a night walk. I have such fond memories of walking and sledding with my parents at night. The streetlights casting a yellow glow to the snow making it all look like sparkly spun sugar. There is something so special about night sledding.
The next day, when the real shoveling began, we took her out again. After an hour of shoveling I took a break and decided to make her an igloo. Then a snow tunnel. As I dug it out, packed and smoothed the snow and generally spent about two and a half hours “just playing” in the snow, I realized something. Aside from my husband, I was the only adult on the block playing in the snow, without my kid. She had abandoned us long before, heading inside for ‘hot chocoh’. The adults simply came out to shovel their cars out, clear their sidewalks and bitch. Not a single snowball was made or thrown. No one admired the beauty of the snow, the wonder of it so close to Christmas or the fact that just for a little while life slowed down. We could stop thinking and doing and simply be. For me, apparently that means I can ‘just be’ twelve.
That’s fine. At this time of year I could use the mental break that being twelve creates. I wonder if this means I can bail on Santa’s cookies, paying the mortgage and doing the laundry.
