Grumps, Grunts and Grief: The Musings Of A Snow-Sullen Mama.

My good friend, Jessica, with Noah on her first visit to see us in our new Canadian home.

The very first thing out of most people's mouths, both Canadian and American, when they learn that we have just moved from Los Angeles to London is, "So, how do you like all of the snow?".

The fact of the matter is that the snow--and the bitter, freezing, perpetual cold--is not so bad. As long as my iGoogle page doesn't inform me of the devastating fact that the high in London last week was 4F and a perfectly sunny 74F in Los Angeles again, then I am just fine. No, the problem isn't the snow or cold at all--it's all of things that come with it--literally--it's the layers, the preparation for going outdoors, it's a toddler who isn't crazy about the snow (much less walking on his own in it), it's a pregnant mama with a big bulky belly whose winter shoes for the last several years have consisted of nothing more than an old pair of broken-in Tom's.

It's plain and simply all of the inconveniences that come with the snow and cold that we have yet to appreciate. It's remembering, finding and putting on the following e v e r y t i m e you want to go a n y w h e r e: thermals, two pair of socks, sweater, pants, snow pants, jacket, gloves, mittens, hat, scarf and snow boots. Multiply this by two, or three if Daddy is along for the ride, and you have a real fiasco at trying to get out of the door. Combine this with a toddler who never wants to walk anywhere in the snow, bags filled with emergency clothing supplies, an ice covered driveway, a huge pregnant belly, a car that needs substantial thawing and scraping, and a balking toddler that somehow needs to be strapped into a car seat whose straps barely accommodate artic layering. Did I mention that this was protocol procedure for each and every driveway departure? Makes you simply want to hibernate, eh?

Take a close look--see the expression on Noah's face in the picture above? That grimace--that smug and disparagingly scathing scowl--as he wonders why the hell he's standing on a sheet of ice while clothed in enough layers to outfit an entire African Village? Yeah, Noah's not such a fan of the snow and cold and I don't blame him. How can I? He's a SoCal boy whose last vivid memories of our past home was of a warm beachy Malibu paradise where he never had to clothe a single sand-caked cheek or little toe.

It will take some getting used to, I suppose. And maybe by the time this part of our "new home acclimation" is taking place it will be time for the big thaw. But then again, though next winter I won't have a big belly to manage around, I will have yet another set of multi-pieced snow gear. So, brace yourself. You may be seeing a very similar post come this time next year--with less jest and even more exasperated whine.

Happy February 1st!