There was a time in my life when I absolutely loved winter. I loved the clothes, the cold, and yes, even the inclement weather. I loved bundling up in scarves, coats, and hats and walking around in a winter wonderland.
I’m 1000000000% done with winter. I’m so over it. I hate it. Loathe it. Want it to die a fiery death.
Oh, gee, I don’t know. (That’s total and complete sarcasm, OF COURSE I KNOW.)
Being cooped up inside.
Having to get EVERY FREAKING PERSON in the house bundled in coats, hats, scarves, and gloves. Then doing it about 10 more times because someone had to potty and had to get undressed. Or someone decided that the shirt they were wearing was “too scratchy” and they needed another one. And then while one was using the bathroom, another one decided to undress to his diaper and run around the house, scattering his clothes in his wake. And then Mommy had to take off HER winter gear because she was sweating her balls off chasing everyone around this freaking house.
Flu season. (Yep, I repeated it. Why? Because we’ve had TWO rounds of the flu. TWO.)
Being too overwhelmed with the thought of bundling everyone up to leave the house just for a small semblance of human interaction with another adult.
So, yeah. Winter can suck it. Its terrible and it needs to go away.
I’m ready for warmer temps (and NOT coming from me, my children, or my husband). I want to be able to go outside with my kids in flip flops and sit in the sunshine. I want to only have to get everyone dressed ONCE. This means no jackets, no hats, no gloves. And when the temperatures are a steady 65-75 degrees outside and winter is FINALLY over, I am going to rejoice with the songs of angels.
Because this ish is getting OLD.