Hey there, people parenting in the snow.
I just spent 48 hours with four kids in the snow and I have a few questions for you.
In short, how the ever-loving fuck do you do this?
I wasn’t even in real snow. I mean, I was. There was white cold stuff on the ground, but it wasn’t snow-ING and the roads were mostly clear and it wasn’t 9,000 below or whatever the hell it is in Winnipeg. It did, however, require “snow gear,” which took approximately 2 weeks to compile and about the same amount of time each morning to put on the kids in question.
- Snow boots
- Snow pants
- Something to wear under the snow pants
- Bib or jacket
- Something to wear under bib or jacket
Ok. Now. We need to back the fuck up here. This is not right. You cannot possibly put ALL THESE CLOTHES ON ALL YOUR KIDS ALL THE DAYS.
You don’t really have to do that, right? You don’t really have to keep together and get on the actual bodies of children nine items of apparel?
What if the toddler pukes? What if the baby has a blow-out? How do you change diapers at all actually? What about the obligatory 4-year-old clothing strike? How do you not lose mittens? Do those bastards ever stay on? How do you keep your baby’s nose warm in the stroller? Can you even use strollers? How do you fit all that shit in cars? Where do you put it while you’re in a restaurant? How do you drive on slippery roads with the kids fighting in the back? How do you not die on icy roads I ask you? How do you nurse?
OH MY GOD HOW THE FUCK DO YOU POTTY TRAIN?
This is impossible. This is not a thing.
Y’all are some goddamn heroes.
On Saturday morning, after we finally got all four kids into their “snow gear” – um, I don’t dress my 14 and 10 year olds, but I do remind them of their stuff (especially the 10-year-old) because otherwise it ain’t pretty – and I felt like I had been hit by a small truck, we stopped at a stop sign about 12 seconds from the house and my toddler gagged on some food item and puked all over his snow bibs. All in the zipper and shit. I’m sure that was a rookie move (putting the kid in the bibs before arrival), but it occurred to me in that moment that I could never, ever do parenthood in the snow.
I would die. I would have one. I would have one and then, I would regret it.
Slipping on ice. Getting cold. Keeping mittens on (that shit is like whack-a-mole on meth). Kids who need to pee. (omg diarrhea. taking sick kids to the doctor!) Jeans touching snow and thereby rendering themselves unusable for 9 hours. Drying out 12,000 articles of clothing every day.
You know what I have to tell my kids when they walk out the door? PUT YOUR SHOES ON.
And 8 months out of the year, even those are relatively optional.
Also, that feels hard somehow.
Okay, water and sunscreen. More requirements. But you need those things too. For a couple of months my kids may need some sort of rain slicker but the Good Ol’ California Drought has mostly taken care of that inconvenience (this is a joke. The drought is not good. In fact, please put on your “snow gear” and do a rain dance before my state becomes a desert).
Parenthood is hard for everyone – except of course that handful of mommies in small, dark corners of the internet – and it’s not a goddamn competition, but I personally do not understand how people navigate it in certain conditions. For example, twins.
Omg twins in the snow.
Forget it. I need some tea. I feel actual fear.
That was so much work. SO MUCH WORK.
And yet, you do it.
It is, however, very pretty, and very fun, and I feel so lucky to get to visit there. And the kids loved it.
We’ll definitely be back.
In a fucking year.