Oh Where, Oh Where Can My Winter Be?

The Lord took Her away from me.

Two years ago, we had the craziest winter these here parts (DC Metropolitan Area) have seen in a long time.  (If not ever, but I don't care enough to look up whether it was the craziest winter in recorded history.)

Two days ago, we had our first of two consecutive 70 degree days in January.

Last year was the warmest winter on record in DC.

Yesterday was the warmest January 30 on record at Dulles airport.

We are currently in the longest stretch of time between snow falls of at least 2 inches in recorded history, with no mention of breaking said streak in the extended forecast I have seen.

Mother Nature, what have we done to spite you?

Jack Frost, where have you gone?

My favorite season is spring.  I love cool mornings and evenings and pleasant, sunny days.  I love sweatshirt and shorts weather.  Anyone who knows me knows I will wear a sweatshirt and shorts in any weather, until it is warm enough to take the sweatshirt off, but I am talking about spring, when people don't look at me funny because I am wearing shorts.  I had a friend who once said people are like bugs, they all go outside when the weather gets nice.  This is true, especially in my neighborhood.  When spring hits whole families emerge from their winter hibernation.  The playgrounds are full.  The streets are more dangerous, with kids on bicycles, scooters and foot going along and across at various speeds and intervals.  It is the renewal of life.  Everything looks better, smells better and feels better, because Mother Nature is warm and sunny and renewed.  Spring is the best.

I still want winter.  I am sure most people have heard San Diego residents sarcastically comment on people who like "seasons."  People who don't live in San Diego say they couldn't live in San Diego because they like seasons.  People who live in San Diego sarcastically claim they understand, because who would want to live in a place that is sunny and 70 every day.  I see both sides of the argument.  If I lived in San Diego, I don't think I would miss winter.  San Diego is close to ideal weather for me.  Last time I was there, I wore shorts and a t-shirt, until it got chilly in the evening and I put on a sweatshirt.  I don't, however, live in San Diego.  So I want the weather that comes with my geographic location, and that includes winter.

During the three ridiculous snowstorm winter of 2009-2010, I told the Wife that our kids, especially Eldest, were going to develop a warped idea of what winter is.  Almost 2 feet of snow is a once every 6-8 years phenomenon in DC, not three times in a season.  Our kids had a blast with those snowstorms.  When I shoveled our driveway, I created 8-10 foot mounds on either side.  The kids turned these into slides, complete with steps up to the top.  They created an igloo-like shelter near the mailbox, where even I could go to get away from the wind and the cold.  We had massive snowball fights, with giant walls and defenses on either side of the driveway.  Then we went inside for hot chocolate with marshmallows.  Winter was good.

Since that winter...nothing.  Last winter, I sadly watched Middle son try to make a snow angel in the barely white mixed winter precipitation we got at some point.  It was the saddest thing I have ever witnessed in mixed winter precipitation.  This year, in the 3/4 of an inch snowfall we got over the past weekend, he asked me to have a snowball fight.  Each scoop of the barely there snow created a snowball that was 2/3 snow and 1/3 leaves.  Ignoring for the moment what this says about my failure to rake this fall, it was another reminder that a boy who wants to love snow becomes a sad, sad sight when Jack Frost doesn't cooperate.

That is why I want winter.  I am not a snow nut.  I didn't grow up in Minnesota or Maine or Canada and have some demented need for really cold weather.  I don't relish spending hours with a snow shovel to clear my driveway which, frankly, isn't that long.  I just want my children to have some snow to play in from time to time.  Especially Middle, who seems to be craving a real snowfall.  Several years ago, after an unxpected 12 inches of snow, I heard on the news that the DC area gets a 10 inch snowfall on average every 3 years.  That works for me.  My concern is that 2009-10 is filling the average and we won't have another one for 7 more years.  We are on the brink of two straight winters without even 2 inches.  I just want a good 6-8 inches.  Enough for my boys to get snowy and cold and deserve that hot chocolate and marshmallows.  Plus a 2 footer every 3-4 years.  Is that too much to ask for, Jack Frost?

Tonight they are predicting another tease.  Snow showers resulting in a dusting.  In fact, the extended forecast has snow predicted for four straight days.  Expected accumulation is a dusting to a half inch. This is merely a recipe for more sad images of a 6 year old trying to squeeze a whole lemon's worth of snow fun out of a lemon seed.  At least they may get a two hour delayed opening from school.

Things to Look Forward to:

1.  Choosing sports for your kids, based on a discussion with friends.
2.  Update on winter sports.
3.  Renewed dedication to this blog.
4.  SI Swimsuit issue coming out, so I don't need to promise pictures of mostly naked women.
5.  Sometime before this summer I will give a full recap of last summer.
6.  372 days until Sochi 2014.

Fat Old Man Update:

I have not been consistent, but at least I am consistently inconsistent.  Eventually, I tend to fall into an inertia created 2 month break from any serious exercise, which I have avoided.  Holidays, illness, laziness and the busy life of a suburban dad have created occassional 2 week breaks, but nothing more than that.  I had lunch with my old (I meant former, really, former) coach today who suggested I wear fins when swimming, at least some of the time.  We agreed that I am a snob who will resist such an act, but maybe I should invest in some.  If nothing else, it will boost my ego by making me feel faster.  At this point, my goal is to keep it up on a somewhat regular basis until the summer, when hopefully I can commit to more time.

Christmas Hangover

Christmas Eve is a magical night, devised for the purpose of torturing excited children.  I have always believed this, to a certain extent, based in large part on the memory of my own torure as an excited young boy.  I learned something new this year.  Torture is much easier to handle if you have at least another week off from school than if you have to go to work on December 26.  I hope your Christmas Eve was wonderful.  Let me tell you about mine.

After spending the day on a wild goose chase for a camera that was sold out of multiple Targets, I finally got home to help the Wife prepare Christmas Eve dinner for my whole family, fourteen people after two had to bail due to the flu.  We managed to expertly spread the work out over the full three day weekend, so we were in good shape on Christmas Eve afternoon as we took care of the final touches.  The "Polish" themed Christmas Dinner the Wife has introduced to my family (pierogies, kielbasa and shrimp) was as good as ever, and Christmas Eve started off swimmingly.  By 7:45, Youngest told his mother he wanted to go to bed and she put him down without incident.  We let the two older ones spend a little more time playing with their cousin before everyone left and we got them ready for bed.  The excitement level was high, and they were in good spirits.  Milk and cookies were put out, PJs were put on and everything looked good at 8:30 when we told them they could play together for a half hour before lights out.  I had some last minute wrapping to take care of, so the half hour was well spent.  Lights went out without  a problem, even though Youngest woke and wouldn't go to bed again until he could sing to his older brothers.  Then the bottom dropped out.

At 10:00 we wanted to put presents under the tree, but Eldest was still awake.  We waited a little while, then decided just to take care of it despite the potential for getting caught.  We were in bed, ready for dreamland by 11:30.  I was awakened at 2:30, by Eldest, who couldn't sleep.  I had trouble falling back to sleep but did manage until 4, when Eldest and Middle decided to turn lights on and play together.  I told them that wouldn't work until 6.  Between 4 and 6, Middle came to see me 4 times to tell me, among other things, that he was "dying" because he couldn't play with his brother. I slept, not a wink, during those two hours.  At 6, I let them get together and reminded them that presents didn't start until 7.  I had to tell them 3 times to quiet down so the Wife and Youngest could sleep.  I slept, not a wink, during that hour.  At 7, chaos ensued.

I enjoy the chaos.  I enjoy the excitement.  I even enjoy the torture a little.  I did not enjoy the lack of sleep.  We did Christmas morning in my house, Christmas afternoon and dinner at my sister-in-law's, about a 90 minute drive away.  We returned home for bed Christmas night.  I felt like a zombie most of the day and took several days to recover.  A bad night of sleep on Christmas Eve is fine when you have nothing to do for the next week, it becomes torture for the adults when they have to go back to work.

Christmas is a wonderful holiday.  I am convinced the only thing better than being a parent of young children on Christmas morning is being a young child on Christmas morning.  Even better for the child is more than a week off from school.  This is definitely the kicker for the Christmas season.  The children get their day, then their week to recover and enjoy.  As a parent, I had to go to work the next day and the day after that and the day after that.  Christmas seems like less a season than a blip.  I can handle the build up, the shopping, the decorating, the wrapping, the cleaning the house and the preparation for dinner.  I struggle with the aftermath.  I struggled this year with a really bad night of sleep.  I struggled with the clean up, the taking down of decorations, and the getting the house back in order.  To make matters worse, this year I got the Plague about 4 days after Christmas.  Well, maybe not really, but it felt like it.  That would explain why this post was finished several days after New Years, instead of several days before.

Ultimately, though, that week after Christmas is worth it, because of the joy my boys get during the build up and the excitement of the week off from school after Christmas.  A week they spent playing with new toys and wonderful babysitters.  I just hope to avoid the Plague next year.

Here's wishing you a very Happy New Year, with fun and happiness, and perhaps a few Observations from a Suburban Sports Dad.