When I was in college, winter was my favorite season. I loved midnight sledding in the moonlight, cozying up in fleece hoodies, and the fact that everything I was allergic to was pretty much dead. Except cats. For some reason, people take them inside.
Enter parenthood. There is still the creativity of making snowmen with my kids, listening to their joyful squeals as they sled down little hills, and enjoying the adorableness of their loving to be wrapped up in blankets and given hot chocolate after a good romp in the snow. But winter brings complications, too: my unwillingness to keep my newborn out in snowy weather for extended periods; the perpetual rotation of colds through the family; my kids inability to buckle their carseats while wearing the winter clothes that take forever to put on; the absence of the playground to run off energy. Not to mention the fact my county cancels school for minor offenses like it being rather cold, and there still technically being some snow in the grass.
I've realized I enjoy my motherhood much more in other seasons. I'm more spontaneous - when sunshine streams through the window, I'm much more likely to ignore the growing laundry pile and go pick dandelions with my kids. We're too busy splashing in the pool for me to worry if I'm letting them spend too long playing sesame street games on the computer. I'm ten times more social – I don't have to clean my house to invite someone to come to the playground with us. Plus, there are camping trips, beach outings, nature walks, and pick-your-own produce farms to frequent. The other seasons are really fun.
Truthfully, winter has become my least favorite season. It still has its joys, but let me tell you, I've never felt more relieved to see spring approach.