Growing up in Wisconsin all my life I had a privilege I didn’t ever consider that big of a deal until I met my fiance, Alex. Alex is from South Texas and he didn’t grow up playing in the snow or having snow days. Over the holidays he got his first pair of snow pants from my parents and the first big snow we got here in River Falls, Wisconsin after that I showed Alex what he was missing out on! We also gave Lexi, Alex’s 3 year old daughter, one of those classic snow day memories of playing in the snow until we wanted to sleep in it that I cherish so much. We had a snow ball fight, made snow angels, and chased each other around in at least a foot of snow. We had a blast and laughed like crazy!
Playing in the snow with Alex and Lexi reminded me of the years of winters I spent with my siblings and parents doing the same. If we had snow in our yard us kids would be out playing in it, no matter what. I remember having hills of snow plowed right outside our front door and digging tunnels through them with my brothers for hours. I don’t know how many times we tried to build igloos so we could “be Eskimos.” I remember going sledding until I couldn’t hold my pee anymore and I had to rush inside and beg my mom or dad to peel the soggy layers of winter clothes off of me so I could make it to the bathroom. Yes, we even ate the snow. No, not the yellow snow! (Although my younger brother did once convince a kid to eat deer poop once, but that’s a whole other story!)
We had forty acres to explore in the snow and in the late ’90s and early ’00s we weren’t the type of kids to just sit inside. I am the second oldest of 5 Wisconsin kids, which means I had plenty of adventures. We were quite theatrical sometimes – pretending we were climbing a mountain and freezing to death, or that we were stranded in the North Pole, or we were in Narnia and one of us girls would be the Snow Queen and one of the boys would be Aslan – and other times we did typical snow activities such as snowball fights, snow angels, tag, and snowman building, of course. My mom would even come out and play with us (my dad may have too, but I have no memory of it). She even made up a game for us to play called, “Chicken Pot Pie,” where she would tramp through the snow to make a big circle with dissecting lines to resemble a cut pie. Mom would play the fox and we were all the chickens. The fox was supposed to catch the chickens by only running around the circle or crossing along the “slices.” So, it was essentially a modified version of tag, but it was heaps of fun and one of my best childhood memories looking back.
I never knew growing up with months of snow every year was a blessing. Now that I am an adult with responsibilities and all of that boring junk I catch myself dreading the snow, but I try to remind myself of how much enjoyment it brought me as a child. Many people have never seen snow in person, let alone known the bliss it can bring to a child’s heart. These days, some children who do get snow don’t even bother to make memories and explore the winter like we did. It’s a shame because they’re truly missing out!
Liz's Logic 