For the Love of Snow!

Today, I bundled Carter up to take him to visit his grandma. My version of the term "bundled" should not be taken lightly. Poor guy was layered like crazy that he resembled the little brother from The Christmas Story (hopefully you know what I am referring to).

Snow covered the entire street and even more blew in the wind. I spent a while brushing the snow off of my car - and complaining to myself about how much I hated it. After we left home, I caught myself complaining again about the weather and the cold and how slippery the roads were. And in the middle of this rant to myself, a little piece of clarity blessed my mind... Why complain? What good does it do? It was like a little angel on my shoulder telling me to be positive and thankful. I mean, if Carter loves the snow despite how cold it is, then I am just missing its beauty.

I once loved the snow too. I would spend hours building forts and making angels in snow that was waist-deep. And though I may currently prefer to gaze at the snowy winter wonderland from indoors by a fireplace, my son loves to frolic in it. It makes him smile. And it is a part of the fabric of a country that gives him safety and freedom.

Just like that, my complaints are out the window and snow isn't all that bad.