Why Parents Should Be Happy About a Monster Blizzard

There’s a storm a-brewing. Maybe you’ve heard about it? Everyone seems very concerned about this and certainly, I do not want to gloss over the very real logistical challenges the Northeast will be facing in the next few days. But me? Personally? I’m just downright giddy.

It has not been a stellar stretch of outdoor time in our family these days. First, we, along with every other family I’ve encountered recently, have been sick with what appears to be the Neverending Story of colds. My family has cycled through the varying stages so many times that I’ve finally stopped trying to kick it via sheer denial (my usual method of dealing with illness) and instead am trying these crazy concepts called “rest” and “medicine” and “good nutrition.” I think we’ve finally begun to improve (she said while checking nervously for another message from the school nurse), but I’m not putting actual money down on the table yet.

We’ve also been suffering through what is probably my least favorite weather for parenting: cold but no snow. There is simply no fun to be had when it is cold with no snow. What’s the selling point? “Hey, why don’t you guys get all bundled up and go outside to chip away at the frozen ground for a while? You know, for funsies?” Thirty degrees or lower with no white stuff is the bane of my parenting existence.

So I was beyond excited when we got some actual snow this weekend. Snow. Blessed, wonderful snow. A proper layer of fresh powder. They went ice fishing and built a fort on the lake. They went sledding. They shoveled pointlessly. They were outside so much I had to put their gear into the dryer so it would be ready for the next adventure. They forgot to whine about their stuffy noses for whole hours at a time. They risked their lives, got pooped out good and proper, and earned that hot cocoa I made for them. It was the best. I would like more of that, please.

More snow, you say? Two feet, possibly? Fantastic. My goodness, could there be a bigger adventure when you are a child than a complete whopper of a storm? Stick a yardstick in the ground outside the window and watch the snow creep up. Send them out for brief excursions to feel the power of the wind. Keep track of how many times they shovel off the deck. Let them climb the mountain the plow guy leaves behind.

You say monster historic blizzard with possible record snowfalls and days of interrupted services?

I say “Get on out there, kids. Just tie a rope around your waist so you can find your way back in.”

Let’s do this. Who’s with me?

Cherie Galyean

About Cherie Galyean

In a perfect world, Cherie Galyean would spend hours every day chasing her kids up hiking trails, pretending to garden, and baking things. Instead, she works full-time in the non-profit sector and fits those other things in-between loads of laundry in her free time. A Maine native with multiple hometowns, she currently lives on Mount Desert Island with her husband, seven-year-old daughter, five-year-old son, and the best shelter mutt in the world.