This morning while taking kiddo to school I heard the radio calling the slush coming out of the sky snow. I’m still hoping it may turn into the big fluffy flakes I know and love but let me reiterate do not miss.

You see the snow was always very pretty but let me give you the breakdown of getting the kid ready for school last year in Northern IL. Start with my husband getting up an hour extra to snow blow the sidewalk. A big warm breakfast and a very important trip to the bathroom before piling on layers of clothes; long underwear, regular school clothes, socks over pants so your pants don’t ride up to your knees when you put the snow pants on, then the snow pants, next gloves and scarves, then the parka, hat and lastly the back pack. We walked to school, though only two blocks we’d leave with fifteen minutes to spare because there would be neighbors who hadn’t shoveled yet, or icy sidewalks and if it was the first snow at least three snow angels on the way.

Snow Suit: Winter Clothes in IL

Once we arrived, I’d accompany kiddo into school and help with the unwrapping. At ten after eight all the kids would be sitting on the floor changing into regular shoes while the parents dressed themselves for the trip back out and tried to get all the wrappings to hang on one coat hook. Stuff the gloves, scarves and hats into the sleeve of the coat and hang the snow pants by the suspenders then the coat and the boots underneath and it would all just barely fit. This dressing ritual repeated at the end of the school day. I think it actually ate up about forty-five minutes of total learning time, just unwrapping and wrapping.

This morning the routine only varied from any other beautiful Texas day by adding a scarf, hat and gloves to kiddo and for me a sweatshirt. I didn’t even really put socks on under the ballet flats I slipped on. I suppose I would’ve if we still walked the two blocks instead of driving the few miles, but this morning the memory of all the preparation we used to do just to keep our fingers and toes from being frost bitten last year made me thankful all over again for our move and chuckle a little at the prospect of snow here. While I hope the big flakes may still flutter down from the sky, I am still glad to live in a place where a snow blower is a fun thing you rent to make snow at a party and not a part of our morning routine.