Season of dread

12.07.06

It’s cold.  Ugh.  Way too cold.  And there’s (ick) snow on the ground.  And some days I don’t see the sun at all.  So many reasons to curl up in bed for the next few months, bury my head under the covers and wish wish wish for springtime.

 

It seems like my attitude about winter gets worse every year, but probably not.  The sense of dread I feel today is probably exactly the same sense of dread I felt last year.  I’m cold all the time.  The idea that months will pass before I’m warm again seems unbearable, and I know I’ll have the heat bill to prove it.  But ah, well, this is where we live, isn’t it?   I know it gets easier as the skin and blood thicken, and the routine of warming up the car and pushing snow around becomes, well… routine.  For now I still hate having to grab a jacket, getting to work with numb toes, and never having enough time in the morning to be sure I’ll get to where I’m going on time.

 

I am still in denial, and still mourning the loss of warm weather and the end of a truly beautiful summer.  Was there a day when I thought, “Gee, I wish this dang heat would end?”  I suppose so, but I can’t imagine it now.  Give me the freedom of shorts and t-shirts, sandals and swimsuits, of running around outside in bare feet.

 

This may be a particularly stressful winter considering that I live with a high-energy 3 year old child.  I feel a little freaky at the thought of us being trapped indoors together for weeks without end.  I guess this means I’ll put a little more thought into what Santa’s bringing this year.  I think she should get games that I like to play ( read: no Barbie’s whatsoever, thank you).

 

Most of my adult life I have known people with kids.  Heck, I’ve known people who have 3 or 4 or 5 kids.  Yet it astounds me how hard it is to be a parent.  I never realized how completely one single little person could drive you out of your mind.  Needy, needy, needy.  Whiney, whiney, whiney.  Unreasonable.  Contrary.  Dawdling.  Impossible. 

 

And here’s what really gets me:  the people with 3 or 4 or 5 (or more!) kids don’t look or act insane.  I can’t fathom it.  I have one child, and I’m lucky to have clean clothes on some days, much less stylish ones and fixed hair and pretty make-up. 

 

How do they do it?  Is it possible that anyone can require less sleep than I do?  Maybe they use that hour after waking up in the morning for grooming rather than serious coffee mainlining?

 

Somehow nobody ever thought to mention to me how hard this was going to be.  I wonder all the time if I’m doing “the right thing.”  Is it cruel that she’s an only child?  Would her behavior be any different (read: better) if I’d dropped a sibling into her life when she was a toddler?  Have I created a monster?  If so, is there any hope of turning it around?  Will it get better when she’s 4 or is that just the empty hope of a wild-eyed lunatic who isn’t quite cut out for this parenting trip?

 

And then I stop obsessing for a few minutes to wonder if my crappy attitude lately can be attributed to the unmistakable beginning of winter in the Northland.

 

That’s probably it.  Well, that and the fact that my kid is smarter than me.  How the heck did that happen, anyway? 

 

Here’s the Christmas list so far, keeping in mind my kid’s incessant pleas to “play with me, Mommy!”

 

Perfection:  Remember this?  Odd little shapes stuck onto short sticks.  Dump out the shapes.  Press the base down.  Start the timer.  Then put the little shapes in as fast as you can before the bottom pops up and scares the bejeesus out if you.

 

JuniorCamping Kit:  Includes a tiny tent,a tiny sleeping bag, and eight tiny reindeer.  Wait a minute, that’s a different story entirely isn’t it?  I think the sleep depravation is catching up with me.  That or the cold medicine. 

 

Never mind.  Sometimes you’re stuck in this cold cruel world and spring seems a lifetime away from today.  Peace out.