Living on the coast of California means my children will never experience snow days.
They’ll never wake up to see the sunlight reflect off a blanket of snow and hear the phone ring, knowing they don’t have to get up. They’ll never know what it’s like to stumble out of the house, clad in layers of winter clothes, scarves over their mouths, mittens on their hands. They’ll never have to peel off layer after layer of wet clothes while shivering in front of the heater.
All of those experiences I had as a child won’t be shared with mine.
But we improvise.
My kids think frost is snow. The last few weeks has seen record lows in my neck of the woods. The temperatures have dropped to the 20s and teens. Now, before any of you scoff and roll your eyes, just remember…it’s all about perspective. When you’re used to lows in the 30s or 40s, this sort of drop is as cold as Chicago.
When we wake up in the morning, our yard and deck are covered with a layer of frosty white. The kids clap their hands and run for their coats so they can go see the “snow”. I tried to correct them, but finally let it go. After all, this is as close as they’ll come to seeing “snow” at their house.
Besides, maybe it’ll make for fun memories when they’re adults of when they used to put on socks and shoes so they could run outside and play in the snow. I do, however, draw the line at allowing frost angels.
Do you have any childhood experiences you wished you shared with your children?