Friday, January 16, 2009

Winter Wonderland My Ass.

For the past 2 days it has been -29 C. Otherwise known as unbelievably-freaking-skin-blistering-eyeball-freezing-clothing-crunching-lung-seizing-finger-burning-toe-deadening-air sharpening-deadly-damn-cold. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate cold? I'm quite sure I have spent all of my previous lives in warm climates...or possibly I froze to death a few times. There is no other way I could have developed such a deep seated hatred of cold. Some people can't stand heat. I don't get it. How can being sweaty possibly be worse than the bone deep pain caused by cold? The sting of wind on your face. The ache of cold fingers and toes. The squeezing bite of cold air in your lungs that makes you wheeze and gasp to suck in yet more burning cold air. The total body fatigue from continuous shivering. To reiterate: I greatly dislike cold. For some reason I seem to be unable to regulate my own body heat. My feet in particular are simply blocks of ice until some outside heat source (generally the backs of Adam's legs) becomes available for me to steal warmth from.

Mooch seems to share my hatred. Yesterday I bundled her head to toe in a down-filled snowsuit, insulated boots, hat, mitts, the whole shebang for the 5 minute drive to drop Goober off at school. We went directly from the car into the school to drop her off because fuck waiting outside in that for the bell to ring. Then I put Mooch back in the car and went home. She cried and squirmed and wrung her poor red hands for half an hour after we got inside. I ended up cuddling with her on the couch under a blanket for an hour with her icy fingers jammed up inside my shirt before she finally calmed down. When home-time came around I left her with my grandpa rather than risk taking her outside again.

Goober on the other hand, refuses to acknowledge the cold. My girly girl has insisted upon wearing dresses rather than pants. Every damn time we head out the door I have to fight with her to put on her snow pants, then her hat, then her mitts, then to do up her coat, she beat me down on the scarf idea ages ago. Why? Why oh why must there be a battle over the same thing every day?

Look child, see all that white shit blowing around out there, lying in drifts 3 times as tall as you? It's called snow, and it's a sure sign that it is, in fact, still winter and thus bloody cold out! You have worn a coat every day for the past 4 months, and will continue to do so for another 3. Why would today be different? I admire the indomitable spirit of hope you are exhibiting with this but please, for the sake of Mommy's tenuous hold on sanity, give it up. Yes, you have to wear a hat. I don't care which hat. There is a big ass box of hats for you to choose from. Same goes for mitts. Just like yesterday. Where are your new slippers? The ones you promised you'd wear if I bought them last week. Your feet are turning blue. I can tell this because you are also not wearing socks. No, you cannot wear your Cinderella dress and nothing else. It is practically made of tissue paper. You need a sweater over your t-shirt. Yes, I can see that it is a pretty shirt, put a sweater on anyway. And so on and so forth.

It would be one thing if she had some sort of sensory integration disorder and couldn't stand certain clothes, but this is not the case. She's just stubborn.

I was planning to write more tonight, but my traitorous cat has abandoned my lap and her warm spot is disappearing. Also my feet are completely asleep because they are curled under me rather than on the cold floor. Also my fingers are becoming stiff and unresponsive on the keyboard. I need hot chocolate, preferably with Kahlua in it. I'll be back in the spring.

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