I couldn't fall asleep last night because I was feeling leftover guilt about our solo East Tennessee snowfall last winter. The kids and I got one fleeting chance to play in the snow and I missed it for all of us. This happened nearly a year ago and I am still torturing myself. Perhaps it is because my son reminds me of the incident on a fairly regular basis, "Mommy. Remember when it snowed that time and you took us outside too late and the snow had already melted?" I REMEMBER! It went something like this:
East Tennessee received a dusting (and I do mean dusting) of snow during the night. Most moms realized the immediacy of the situation and got their kids up at the crack of dawn to play in it. Not me. I spent a good chunk of my teenage/young adult years in Central Illinois where snow tends to stay on the ground for days and weeks at a time. I rolled out of bed, did my morning cleaning, took my shower, took my time. Big mistake. By the time we walked out the door at 7:50, the snow was all but gone. My son collapsed immediately into a ball of disappointment. My daughter stood staring at him, wondering what the heck was going on and why she was in that ridiculous get-up. I felt like someone had stabbed me in the heart with a santoku knife. Did I really just miss the first chance my kids had to make a snowman? Did I really miss the snow angels? The snowball fights? The wet socks? The sledding? The photo-ops? My son was crushed. CRUSHED. And it was truly my fault. I could attribute this incident, 100%, to my laziness. I sit here, at the keyboard, hanging my head in shame.
There is a slight chance for snow this weekend in East Tennessee. Bring it on! I will set my alarm for 5:00am, get my kids dressed and coated and enjoy the snow until the sun comes up and melts it away. Bring on the snow Jack Frost! I've got some penance to pay!