Baby, It’s Cold Outside

As someone who loathes winter and all things snow, I am reluctantly going on a weekend ski trip with Josh and Virginia. Last year I got out of it by taking a last-minute trip out west to visit my mom for the weekend on account of self-diagnosed seasonal affective disorder. No one can say northern California is particularly warm in the winter either, but in February, it’s certainly balmier there than in Philadelphia. What a break to spend a few days in 50 degree weather.

I hate to even complain about going away on a weekend trip, but given the circumstances, what choice do I really have? I don’t understand why anyone who lives in freezing temperatures and snow for 3+ month would waste a weekend and money just to be surrounded by even colder temperatures and more snow. So why go this year? I’ve been grappling with that question this week as I look ahead to traveling to the Poconos, a region that enjoys more cold and snow than Philly for the opportunity to slide down an icy hill on skis. This sounds more like torture than recreation. However, Josh, Virginia, and our friends we’ll be traveling with consider skiing “fun.” VA asked that I go this time around, “I want Dad and you to go this time.” I didn’t want to say no to that. Are you kidding? I couldn’t say no—not when your child is asking to spend time with you. Plus, she’s ten, so I know my days of her wanting spend any amount of time with me are numbered. Any day now she’ll be turning into a sullen teenager who’d rather drop dead than be caught within shouting distance of her mother. Josh and I laugh and joke about how embarrassing it will be to have us as parents when she hits puberty. We are not cool. We are goofy and socially awkward and will most likely volunteer to chaperone her school dances.

So now she wants me to join them and I’m going. I wouldn’t miss it. And truthfully, I’m doing it as much for me as I am for her. Before I know it, I’ll be that mom who’s required to walk at least ten paces behind VA and her friends at the mall. But until then? I’ll be the mom who gets to spend a weekend with her daughter in the freezing, freezing cold.

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