I love snow days. Love them. A teacher friend once told me snow days are gifts, and she was so right. (That was before the days where kids do virtual school on snow days, BTW.)

I see a glittering, magical world blanketed in snow, telling me to stay warm, stay inside, snuggle in pjs all day, and I don’t ever want to mar that pristine whiteness.

Somehow my children get the opposite message: they see a blank canvas calling for footprints, tracks, snow angels, snow forts, battles, and snowmen.

I often delay snow play because as a parent it’s such a pain. You have to get out all the gear and then spend 20 minutes helping everyone put it on. Invariably, once dressed, someone will have to go to the bathroom, which means undressing them and then redressing them. Plus someone (ahem, Maria) is cold and wants to go back inside after five minutes in the snow. And they aren’t content to just play… they want ME to play and get all cold and wet. Or they want to build a snowman and need “just a little help” but there I am, an hour later, putting the finishing touches on the snowman all by myself while the children… where are they? And why are all the hats, scarves and gloves strewn all over the lawn? And is that someone’s JACKET on the lawn?

Oh, here they come, jackets off, skin showing everywhere, soaking wet, with red cheeks outlined in white, huge smiles on their faces and eyes twinkling with exhilaration. They’ve come to find me because they’re ready for the next thing: hot chocolate.

Ahh, snow days. Gotta love them!